Presidential Initiation
by Car
Summary: <html><head></head>The president-elect smiled. "I have to say Mr. President, you're making me a little nervous." Every nation has his or her own way of welcoming in a new boss. Some nations just happen to be a lot nicer about it than others.</html>
1. The Inauguration

**Note: All characters in this story are products on my own imagination. Any similarities between them and real people are completely coincidental. :)**

* * *

><p>President of the United States of America.<p>

Head of state and head of government. Leader of the executive branch of the federal government and commander-in-chief of the United States Armed Forces.

And at noon today, it was all his.

At his right, his wife smiled brilliantly, their five-year-old son held securely in her arms, not entirely sure what exactly was going on, but thrilled to be there anyway. On is left was his ten-year-old daughter, struggling to keep her eyes from the camera flashes, but obviously soaking up the limelight.

"...and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God."

The audience burst into sudden applause, alerting the president elect that his vice-president had finished his (thankfully much longer than his) oath into office and the band had once again started up with their patriotic praise.

He supplied his friend with a firm handshake, a silent thanks for a job well done. The Vice President nodded knowingly, flashing a small, secretive smile that either said "thanks" or "don't thank me yet", he couldn't be sure.

Out of the corner of his eye, the Chief Justice turned in his direction, smiling warmly with a large bible resting his hands.

It was time.

With shaking hands, he allowed his wife to help him to his feet, and after planting a small kiss to her cheek, took a deep breath and turned to the man. He could barely register the clapping and hollering of the crowd of people below.

"Are you prepared to take the oath?"

The president-elect nodded, knowing he was probably grinning like an idiot, but not bothering to care. "I am."

The Chief Justice raised his right hand and he immediately followed suit. "Repeat after me. I do solemnly swear."

"I do solemnly swear."

"That I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States."

"...that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States."

"And will to the best of my ability."

"And will, to the best of my ability,"

"Preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States."

He allowed himself a deep, calming breath. "Preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States."

"So help you God?" The Chief Justice raised an eyebrow playfully.

The president elect bit his lip and nodded. "So help me God."

"Congratulations," the older man paused briefly before allowing himself a small smile, "_Mr. President."_

The crowd broke into thundering applause as the President and the Chief Justice exchanged handshakes, and continued their clapping and cheering as his wife, the _First Lady_, did the same. His daughter was on her feet in an instant, jumping into his arms and kissing him on the cheek. He may have even heard her cry something about being the coolest daddy ever, but the people, _his_ people were cheering so loud it was hard to be sure.

In the distance, cannons were fired and the beginning cords of _Hail to the Chief _started to play, and it was at that moment, that exact moment, at 12:05PM on January 20th, that he heard that iconic song, and knew that it was playing for him.

Him, the President of the United States.

* * *

><p>"<em>Well lookit what the cat dragged in! it's the fresh meat!"<em>

_The president-elect smiled softly and offered his hand for a handshake. "Hello again, Mr. President."_

"_Aw, shoot son, we don't do handshakes 'round here! Gimme a hug!" And suddenly his offered hand was yanked forward and he found himself with a face-full of patriotic tie and pudge._

"_Yes," he gasped, trying to wiggle his way free. "Yes, that's good, that's quite enough-"_

_The President laughed heartily. He was a bigger man, known throughout his eight years in office as being jolly and enthusiastic, with a comforting southern drawl that made you either feel like home or crave some KFC. While it was true they both played for different parties, the president-elect felt no animosity throughout the entire election. Sure, he supported the other guy because it was what was expected of him, but the President was a man who cared about the country as a whole far more than he cared about who supported what._

"_Come on now boy, you wont last a day with that there attitude a' yours!" With that the President started strolling down the hall, chuckling under his breath. "Woo-wee, America's gonna have a fun time with this one." _

_The two men made their way to the Oval Office, the President taking his spot behind the large desk, and the president-elect sitting in a hard wooden chair that was pulled in front of it. _

_The traditional meeting between President and elect. No one besides the two involved ever knew what went on during these meetings, it was one of those mysteries the presidents took to their graves. Sure they hinted at the sharing of advice or plans for the future, but the knowing smiles and giggles of White House staff had the current elect thinking otherwise. _

_The President rested his elbows on the desk and leaned forward expectantly. "So you think you're prepared to be president, eh?"_

_The president-elect chuckled, shaking his head. "Not even a little. I thought I was after the election, but now that the inauguration is getting closer, I-"_

"_Let me tell you somethin', sport," the President interrupted, suddenly serious, "And if you don't remember nothing else, you remember this."_

_The younger man's eyes widened, nodding to show he understood._

"_I ain't never had any kids of my own. Shame really, I think I woulda made a good daddy, but that ain't the point. Point is, in my eight years servin' in this office, I didn't once feel sad about that. Not once. Why you ask? Cause I had a country now, and dammit if it's not the best damn country on this here Earth." _

_The President started to tear up at this point. Awkwardly, the elect offered him his handkerchief. _

"_Thank ya, son." He blew his nose. "Now where was I? Ah yes. I ain't saying this is gonna be easy. In fact, I would reckon to say these might be the hardest and most stressful few years of your life. But boy, I'm trustin' you with somethin' special. This nation, the United States of America, is a gift. You remember that. It's a gift, even if it don't always treat you the best, drives you straight to the loony bin on it's best days, you trust in that nation, you let it know that no matter what, come Hell or high water, you love it."_

_The President paused again to blow his nose and dab his eyes. The elect wrung his hands nervously, finding it difficult to keep his own emotions in check. It was a powerful thing, speaking with a man who loved his country so much._

"_Now, you may hear some folks talkin' about you being America's boss." The President chuckled with a sniff. "I will tell you right now, that is the biggest load of garbage you will ever be told in this here house, cross my heart. You ain't America's boss, America is the boss of you...whether you like it or not." He smiled, handing the used handkerchief back to it's owner who took it in his fingertips with a grimace. "That VP a'yours. His daddy was president once upon a time, wasn't he?"_

"_Yes sir."_

_The President nodded, satisfied. "You're a lucky one then, partner. It's good to have someone who knows whatcha gettin' into."_

_The president elect smiled. "I have to say Mr. President, you're making me a little nervous."_

_The other man laughed heartily. "Aw shoot, son! I don't mean to frighten ya!" He stood up and offered the elect his hand in a proper handshake this time. "You'll be fine, don't you worry! I can see it in your eyes. Once you get through the first day or so, it'll be a regular walk in the park!" _

"_Thank you sir, it means a lot to know you have faith in me." _

"_One more word of advice, before I let ya skedaddle." The President grinned as he opened the door of the office to let the elect back out. "Get plenty of sleep that first night in the White House after the inauguration. Get to bed early."_

_The elect blinked. "And why is that?"_

_The President smirked. "Just trust me, son. Day two is a doozy."_

* * *

><p>The President finished up his nightly routine, familiar yet different in his new surroundings. It wasn't hard to take the ex-president's advice on getting to bed early, it had been a long day and even with all the excitement, he was dead tired.<p>

He turned off the light from the bathroom and dragged his way to his new bed. His wife was tucked into the covers, wearing her reading glasses and flipping though her faithful schedule book. He smiled fondly.

"You know, from this angle, you look a heck of a lot like the First Lady."

She smirked, pushing her glasses up the bridge of her nose as she glanced up at him. "My, how observant you are, _Mr. President._"

The President chuckled and slipped under the covers as his wife took off her glasses and placed them along with her book on the bedside table. "You know, they say tomorrow is supposed to be a rough one." He switched off his lamp.

"Oh?" She switched off hers as well and he could hear her settling in. "Who says?"

"The ex-president."

A soft laugh. "Well, he would know, wouldn't he?"

"I suppose." He leaned over and kissed his wife goodnight. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight..._Mr. President._"

"Oh, cut that out."

As the presidential couple drifted off to sleep, they were unaware of a familiar, at least to most of the White House staff, figure lurking outside of their bedroom door. With one ear pressed firmly to the hard mahogany, it smiled a devious, movie-star smile as all went quiet inside the room.

"Let the fun begin."

* * *

><p><strong>FINALLY! I've been trying to start this for like, a year now. XD Thank you to cwizumi over on dA for reminding me to get my ass into gear and write this thing! <strong>

**Some notes: None of the "real" people in this story are going to have names. I feel like in keeping all of these characters subjective, it allows for a more pleasurable reading experience for all. So you will have to deal with "the President" instead of a name. XD And you will never know what party he is either, just that it's opposite what the ex-president's was. **

**Speaking of which, I love the ex-president. I think he and America must have had a blast together. XD Maybe someday I'll write about their adventures, but for now we have to focus on Mr. Boring who I love just as much, but in a I-love-to-tourture-you way. Anyway, any other questions will hopefully be answered as the story goes on, and if not, feel free to ask it and I'll do my best to answer! :D  
><strong>**Don't forget to review! **

**-Car**


	2. The New Guy

The last thing the President remembered before this moment was the familiar feeling of needing to use the washroom in the middle of the night and the distinct smell of chloroform.

Which was curious in itself; as, to his knowledge, he had never _actually_ smelled chloroform before. However, as the damp rag was pressed unceremoniously to his mouth and nose as he flushed the toilet, he somehow knew exactly what he was smelling.

Which led him to this current point in time. Outside, bound to a chair, with a bag over his head.

Wonderful. He'd been kidnapped.

"Hmm hmm...which seat do I taaaake?"

The President blinked. Someone was singing, and given his current situation it was probably his kidnapper. His kidnapper was singing.

"...Fun, fun, fun fun, lookin' forward to the weekeeend!"

His kidnapper was singing _Friday_.

Maybe if he was lucky this guy would off him quickly.

Unfortunately, his groan of misery did not go unnoticed, as the singing abruptly came to a halt somewhere around the second verse. "Dude? Was that you? You awake?"

The President froze. His kidnapper walked closer.

"Yo, I can tell you're awake. You aren't even breathing," the voice chuckled.

The president cursed but let himself relax. "What do you want with me?" he demanded.

"Oh, wait a sec, bro. Can't hear you with that thing on your head. Let me get that off for ya."

Blinking into the sunlight that suddenly assaulted his eyes as the bag was removed, he managed to crack his eyes open enough to take in the face that was alarmingly close to his own.

It was a kid; barely older than twenty. Blond, with big, blue eyes behind simple wire framed glasses. He was dressed casually; blue jeans, sneakers and a t-shirt, covered by an old-fashioned brown leather bomber jacket, obviously, because even if it was unusually warm, it was still January.

Somehow, this was _not_ what he pictured his kidnapper to look like.

"Oh God," he mumbled, despite himself. "I was kidnapped by some fucking college student?"

Which the kid evidently found hilarious, as he busted into loud, obnoxious laughter. The President flushed; this was _not_ funny dammit.

Once the boy regained his composure (which took _far_ longer than necessary, as far as the President was concerned), he positively _beamed _at him.

"So you're the new guy, huh?" he asked excitedly. "I was really kinda hoping you would wake up before I got here, so I wouldn't have to carry you out here and stuff. But it's cool; you aren't too heavy."

Unsure whether he should apologize for not waking up or thank the boy for complimenting his weight (oh god, something _had_ to be wrong with him), he chose to simply remain silent and wait for the kid to make the next move.

And make the next move he did. Before he could blink, a large hand was shoved into his face. Wearily, he followed the hand up the arm and up to the brightly smiling face grinning expectantly down at him. He blinked.

"What?"

"Handshake! We need to introduce ourselves!"

"...I'm tied to a chair."

The boy's smile faltered as he assessed the situation. "Oh shit. That's not gonna work is it?"

The President gaped.

"Tell you what." The boy crossed his arms and smiled teasingly. "When you stop looking like you want to punch me in the face, I'll untie you and we can introduce ourselves properly. Sound good?"

"Or you could just tell me who you are," the President grumbled. This little game was getting annoying. Hopefully the boy would make his intentions clear soon.

Speaking of the boy, a sudden gleam seemed to appear in his eyes that was almost...mischievous. Honestly, the President expected to see this look on his kidnapper's face sooner, so he was probably not as frightened as he should have been.

"See," the boy drawled innocently, "You are the President of the United States of America. And seeing as I was raised by someone more than obsessively polite, I just _can't_ bring myself to do that unless it's done right." He paused to peak at him out of the corner of his eye. "So we're gonna have to wait for you to chill out so you can shake my hand without popping me one in the kisser. Got it?"

"And what if I never stop wanting to punch you?" the President asked, darkly calm.

The boy merely smiled wider. "Then we're gonna be here for a while, because I'm not letting you go until you know _exactly_ who I am."

* * *

><p>Somewhere around minute nine of their awkward silence, the boy had wondered off into the surrounding woods and returned with an old blue and yellow lawn chair. After setting the thing up a comfortable distance away, he plopped down into it, pulled out his cell phone (the newest generation of iPhone, he couldn't help but notice. Apparently this kid had money) and effortlessly lost himself to the world of technology, the President momentarily forgotten.<p>

So, he took this opportunity to assess his situation. So far this boy didn't _seem_ dangerous, but you never could tell these days. Who knew when he might snap, pull a chainsaw out of nowhere and start going to town.

The President shuddered.

Which also begged the question why he hadn't been rescued yet. Certainly they had to have noticed him missing by _now. _And surely, as the president, he would have some pretty heavy security on his side, right?

Across form him, his kidnapper apparently bested his high score in Angry Birds, as he let out a loud whoop of triumph.

Then again, maybe security wasn't as tight as he thought, if _this_ moron was able to kidnap him. He let out a tired sigh.

"You okay there, boss?"

The President scoffed. "Oh yes. This is _exactly_ what I wanted to be doing today."

The boy laughed. "Dude, all you gotta do is let me introduce myself and we can go home."

He narrowed his eyes. "The United States doesn't cooperate with terrorists."

"Fuck yeah, we don't!" The boy grinned. "But seriously, that's all we gotta do."

Somehow, the President had a feeling it wasn't going to be that easy. "What is it you want from me?" he asked.

The boy seemed taken back by this, his mega-watt grin dimming to a small smile. "Well, theres a lot of stuff I want from you I guess..." He paused, crossing his arms in contemplation. "I mean, I guess I can be hard to please sometimes, you know? I want you to fix the things the other guys screwed up, but keep the good things they've done, too. And, I guess I want you to be understanding and fair, but know when to get tough, no one likes a pussy. And I want you to solve problems, but solve the right problems, don't waste your time on shit no one cares about. But then again, that stuff can be important too...I don't know." He shrugged. "I just don't want you to let me down."

Well.

That was...unexpected.

The boy obviously noticed the bewilderment in the President's face, and offered him a toothy grin. "But that's in the long run of course! Right now, all I want to do is shake your damn hand." He laughed heartily.

The President rolled his eyes. "They're going to find me, you know. The FBI, or CIA, or whoever. And when they do, it wont be pretty for you."

"Meh, I'm not too worried." The boy crossed his foot over his knee. "I've done worse."

"...You've done worse?"

"Oh yeah! Remind me to tell you about it sometime!" He smirked. "After we've been properly introduced."

"You are not going to let that go, are you?" The President asked tiredly.

The boy chuckled. "Nope. You ready to shake my hand without punching me?"

The President glared in response.

"Nope. Definitely not."

Suddenly, Lady Gaga started playing from the boy's back pocket. The President was happy he at least had the decently to look a little ashamed as he pulled out his phone to check the ID.

"Oh hey, it's my brother. Hold on for a sec, okay?" He stood up and walked across the tiny clearing, answering the phone on his way. "Sup brah?"

The boy paused in his pacing, his eyes shooting to the President.

"Oh my goodness!" he exclaimed melodramatically. "Are you serious? Oh no, what a terrible thing to have happened!"

He bit his lip.

"W-what are you talking about, dude? Of course I don't have him with me."

His eyes narrowed angrily.

"What do you mean I'm a bad liar? I'm an awesome liar!"

He blushed and ran a hand through his hair.

"Okay...so maybe I had a _little_ something to do with it. Oh come on, dude! Don't be such a stick in the mud! It's tradition!"

He blew a gust of air into his bangs as they fell into his eyes.

"Well I'm not just gonna bring him back without accomplishing anything...Shut up, I know exactly what I'm doing."

His eyes widened.

"Oh no you don't! Dude, I said no! I don't need y- Oh don't you dare. Don't you even fucking- I swear to God, if you hang up, I'll- Dude? Bro? Ugh!"

Hanging up with a pout, the boy turned his attention back to his highly amused captive.

The President had a feeling he was going to like this brother.

"So hears the deal," the boy sighed. "My boring-ass brother is on his way here to let you go and he may or may not have reinforcements. What this means is that we have to introduce ourselves and we have to do it fast. Now, I'm going to untie you, and you're going to promise you aren't going to hit me. Got it?"

The President raised an eyebrow.

"Dude, I'm being totally super serious right now!" the boy exclaimed. "My brother may not be the toughest nail in the shed, but knowing him, he's bringing either a perverted French guy or an angry little British man, neither of which will bode well for us in the end, so we gotta do this now!"

The President took in the boy's frazzled appearance and nodded solemnly. "Well, I suppose..."

He brightened. "And you're not gonna hit me? You promise?"

"...Sure."

The kidnapper sighed in relief and began to carefully untie his bounds.

* * *

><p><strong>THIS CHAPTER. It hated me. Absolutely HATED me. I had the whole thing written up...and then I decided didn't like it and and I rewrote the entire thing. I'm still not 100% happy with it, but honestly, it did what it had to do, so I'm just going to hope things go better next time. XD <strong>

**To answer questions: Yes, this is the same President from all my other fics. This is the story of how he and Alfie met. =3 So cute. And SPEAKING of questions! Cue the shameless plug: I got a formspring to answer questions! I saw some other authors doing it, so I thought I would too. Link in is my profile, so go on and check it out! Ask me anything! About the fics, myself, whatever!**

**Oh! And guess what? I GRADUMACATED! Oh yeah, I'm a certified elementary school teacher. Be afraid. I may someday be teaching your children. *smirk* Anyway! Hope you enjoyed and please review!  
>-Car <strong>


	3. The Rescue Squad

"Okay, see, that was exactly what I asked you _not _to do."

The President smiled in a rare bout of sick satisfaction as his kidnapper tenderly massaged his developing black eye.

"Did you honestly not see that coming?" he asked, slightly amused.

"No!" the boy exclaimed, wincing. He quickly finished tying the President back to the chair and grumbled. "I can't believe you punched me in the face. Seriously, who _does_ that?"

"Someone who has had just about enough of being tied to a chair?" he offered.

The boy rolled his eyes, clearly not amused. "My brother is going to be here any minute, and let me tell you, that kid can _rant._ If I don't get this taken care of before he gets here I'll never hear the end of it!"

"So jus-"

"And don't tell me to just do it or whatever! It's a handshake or nothing, dammit!"

The President sighed. So that was how it was going to be, huh? Oh well, he was pretty sure he could hold off the idiot until his brother arrived. He was at least seventy five percent sure he wasn't going to kill him, anyway.

"So," he began, for lack of anything else to say. "You never did tell me why you kidnapped me."

The boy creased his eyebrows. "Huh? Sure I did."

"No...I'm pretty sure-"

"Yeah, I just told you." At the President's blank stare, he continued. "Dude, come on. I need to formally introduce myself to you. Remember? I like, seriously just told you that."

Oh god. He wasn't joking, was he? He was _that_ determined to shake his hand. Like, _kidnap the President_ determined. "All of this...just to..." he trailed off as the boy's smile grew. "You're serious?"

"As a heart attack." He grinned.

"But..._why?"_

"You'll understand once you know who I am."

"So tell me!"

"I was _going to,_ but you _punched me _in the freakin'_ face_."

The President and the kidnapper glared at each other for a few moments, and the President found himself, for the first time, actually wondering who this kid really was. He certainly didn't seem to be particularly intelligent, but then again, he managed to kidnap the President, didn't he?

Either he was dealing with some sort of diabolical genius, or he had to make some serious changes in his security.

His internal musing were brought to a halt, however, as a snap and responding curse sounded from the surrounding forest. Both men turned their attention to the cluster of trees, the kidnapper groaning as two blonde tuffs of hair could be seen through the foliage.

"Are you certain we're going in the correct direction, lad? This tree looks terribly familiar."

"Positive, eh. He always comes to the same spot. It should be right aroun- Ah, here we go."

As the two men walked cautiously into the clearing, the President found it wasn't hard to tell which one was the boy's brother. The taller of the two could very well be his twin, he couldn't help but think. They were nearly identical, save for a slight difference in hair length and body build; his kidnapper obviously the stronger of the two.

The twin's eyes scanned the clearing, widening as they landed on him. "Maple!" he exclaimed quietly.

"Oh bloody hell, he's tied to a chair."

The President turned his attention to the shorter of the two, a man who looked more than a little pissed off to be in his current situation. Despite being the smallest of the three men physically, he still held an air about him that would cause even the toughest man to fear him. He scowled, his rather prominent eyebrows drawing into an angry crease.

"Great bro, you brought the greater of two evils." His kidnapper grumbled, meeting the newcomers halfway across the clearing.

"Excuse me?" the smaller man seethed. "And just what is _that_ supposed to mean, you twit?"

Something told the President this was the "angry little British man."

The kidnapper stepped closer challengingly. "That I was kinda hoping he would bring the Frenchie, because at least his wandering hands are quiet, unlike your bitching!"

"My _what?"_

"Bitch-ing! Because that's what you do: you bitch! All the time! Bitch, bitch, bitch!"

"Oh, I bitch now? Is that what you're implying? Is that what I do?"

"That's what I just said, old man! Do you need to get your hearing checked?"

"Well, maybe I wouldn't have to bitch, as you so eloquently called it, if you weren't such an immature, insufferable little wanker all the bloody time!"

Just as the President started to contemplate speaking up and stopping the fight before it went too far, a small voice drew his attention to the young man standing awkwardly to his left.

"Don't worry, you'll get used to it. They do this a lot, unfortunately."

He turned to his kidnapper's double with a start. "Oh!" he exclaimed, "I forgot you were here!"

The double laughed nervously. "That...happens often." He smiled gently, and the President started to wonder if this young man was really related to his...less than polite kidnapper. "I'm so sorry about this, Mr. President. I thought for sure we had him locked up last night, but he must have got out somehow. Your family has been informed of your location, so don't worry. We'll get you out of here and back home."

The President smiled gratefully. He _knew_ he would like this guy. "Thank you. I really appreciate this Mister..."

"Eh? Oh, I'm C-"

"MATTIE!" Everyone jumped at the kidnapper's sudden exclamation. He stood in the middle of the clearing, holding the British man back by his forehead, keeping his distance from his flailing fists. "That's my brother MATTHEW, and this is ARTHUR."

The British man- Arthur stopped his punches and exchanged a bewildered look with Matthew. "What in the blazes are you talking about, Am-"

"Shhhhhh!" The kidnapper exclaimed, throwing his hand over Arthur's mouth. "Shut up, will ya?"

Matthew's confusion suddenly melted into a look of dangerous suspicion. "You've got to be kidding me."

The kidnapper bit his lip. "So...Um...I haven't _exactly_ told him who I am yet."

The reaction was almost instantaneous. Matthew took the road of tired surrender, face-palming and muttering a quiet "fucking maple" under his breath.

Arthur's chosen path was a bit angrier.

"WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU BEEN DOING ALL MORNING, THEN?" he exclaimed.

The kidnapper winced and recoiled at the yell. "Other stuff! Sheesh! You can't just rush these things, you know! I can't just introduce myself to the President without a handshake! It's un-American!"

Arthur threw his hands into the air in defeat and briskly walked to the President's side. "Mr. President, I am so sorry for what you have been through today, I truly am. We'll get you untied and-"

"Oh no you don't!"

At this point, the President began to wonder if he was, in fact, dreaming. It would make sense, really. This crazy situation, the crazy kidnapper, his crazy friends, and now, being lifted over said crazy kidnapper's head by crazy kidnapper, still tied to the chair.

With one arm.

The man was lifting him, a grown man, tied to a chair, over his head, with _one arm._

Below him (because he was being_ lifted into the air_ with _one arm_), Arthur and Matthew crossed their arms sternly, almost resembling scolding parents, and apparently not phased in the slightest at their friend's feats of strength. "Put him down," Arthur snapped.

"No."

"Please put him down?" Matthew tried next.

"No! It's my tradition and I'm not letting you two ruin it!"

The President started at that. "Tradition? What do you mean tradition? And put me down, for Christ's sake!" His grip on the chair tightened subconsciously as he began to realize just how high up there he was.

The kidnapper turned his head up to him and pouted. "Aw, fine. But I'm still not leaving until he knows!"

"Then for the love of the Queen, tell him!" Arthur exclaimed. "I know they give you the entire day to fill him in on the basics, but that does _not_ mean you must actually take _the_ _entire day_ to do it!"

Matthew nodded in agreement. "If you don't tell him soon, we will."

"Okay, okay. God, you guys are such nags." The kidnapper rolled his eyes and, thankfully, set the President back on the ground. "This is why I wanted Francis here, he at least has a sense of humor."

Matthew's face darkened. The President found himself suddenly chilly. "I _did _bring him, actually."

"Yeah?" the kidnapper asked. "What happened to him?"

"Ask _Arthur_."

All heads turned to the British man, who crossed his arms in a huff. "The frog was being a fucking perverted tosser so I left him at the gas station," he explained easily. The President's eyes widened.

Matthew ran a hand through his hair. "He wasn't even driving when we left. He pushed down the pedal with his hand from the passenger seat."

"We were in a hurry and he was wasting time flirting with the bloody attendant! Anyway, he's a resilient bugger, he'll find us eventually."

Matthew rolled his eyes while the kidnapper laughed heartily, wincing as his eyes crinkled and tenderly touching his still swollen eye.

Arthur's brow's creased. "Oi, what the hell did you do to yourself?"

"He hit me." The kidnapper pouted, pointing to the President.

"You probably deserved it."

"Shut up."

Matthew stepped between them. "Okay that's enough, eh. Once we're back at the White House, we'll get you some ice, okay?" The kidnapper nodded. "Good. Come on Arthur, let's let him get this over with."

As the other two retreated to the other side of the clearing, the President turned his attention back to the kidnapper. "What did he mean by 'back to the White House?'" he asked anxiously.

The kidnapper laughed. "If I untie you and you don't punch me again, I'll tell ya. How's that sound?"

"Deal."

The kidnapper, once again, untied the President's hands. Once he was sure that he wasn't going to be hit, he beamed and held out his hand for the long awaited handshake.

"Mr. President," he stated professionally as their hands finally clenched, "It's a pleasure to finally meet you, sir. I am the United States of America."

* * *

><p><strong>This chapter was really fun to write, so I hope it was just as fun to read! FACE tiiime! Don't worry France fans, he'll be there eventually, I just didn't think Mr. President was ready for him quite yet. XD<strong>

**In other news...I am officially a teacher! I got a job teaching 5th and 6th grade out in Montana, so I'm pretty excited! This fic will have to be done by the end of August though, because I don't know how much time I'll have to write once I start working, so theres an incentive for me, I guess. XD**

**Anyway, hope you enjoyed!**


	4. The Reveal

America's smile was plastered across his face, reflecting the sunlight and causing him to positively glow. He had done it! He had heroically told his boss who he was! Now he just had to wait for the fanfare, the praise, the cries of admiration...

However, as his handshake with the President remained firm and the man had yet to react in any way whatsoever to his super awesome, fantabulous news, his grin faltered ever so slightly.

"Uh..." he mumbled intelligently, "Y-you can call me America...if you want. The United States part can be kind of a pain in the ol' Grand Canyon, heh." Still nothing. "O-or you can call me Alfred! That's like, the human name I use 'cause, you know, even saying 'America' is a little strange for a human I bet. Most of my other bosses called me that. Yep, Alfred F. Jones. So, um, yeah! Any of those are A-OK with me!"

The President continued to stare, deadpan, at the excitable young nation. America's smile finally melted into a frown.

"Um. I'm...I'm just gonna go ahead and let that marinate in your head, okay? Great. Yeah. Be right back." America sprinted across the clearing, skidding to a stop in front of England and Canada where they were looking at paint splotches, or knitting, or whatever it is boring countries like them do together. "He doesn't believe me!" he exclaimed.

"Well of course he doesn't," England replied calmly, inspecting his fingernails. "No sane person would."

"My old boss believed me right away."

England scoffed, "As I said, no _sane_ person would."

Canada smiled politely as his brother glared at their old caretaker. "It usually takes a while for this kind of thing to sink in, eh. Most humans struggle to understand the concept of national anthropomorphic personifications."

America blinked. Canada sighed.

"People/nation thingies."

"Gotcha."

"What Canada is trying to say is that it is going to take a little effort on your part to help him understand," England explained. "Which, if I may remind you, is _why_ you are given the entire day to explain the situation and not waste it bloody kidnapping people."

America rolled his eyes. "Okay, okay, I get it." He crossed his arms confidently. "Don't worry, it'll be a piece of cake. I've explained it to my other bosses and, with the exception of Hoover who thought I was some crazy-ass intern his entire term, they all believed me!"

Canada and England exchanged weary glances.

"Are you sure you don't want one of us to talk to him first?" Canada asked. "You did kidnap him this morning...he really has no reason to trust you."

America laughed and waved him off. "I got this, dude, don't worry! Just leave it to the hero!"

* * *

><p>He was crazy.<p>

Not that that he didn't know that already; the President had pretty much figured out the mental stability of his kidnapper with the, you know, kidnapping. But now the boy had officially proved it.

Maybe he was joking. Maybe the boy didn't _actually_ think he was the United States and was simply joking around, being funny. Yes. The President took hold of that thought and held on for dear life.

The kidnapper (Alfred? _America?_) shuffled back across the clearing from where he was talking with his friends, a big, nervous smile gracing his face. "Hey there, sir. You, um, better now and stuff?"

The President blinked. "That depends. What did you say your name was again?"

"America."

"That's what I thought you said." He nodded firmly. "Well, in that case, I am just going to sit here and wait for you to cut me into bits, or gut me and walk around in my skin or whatever."

America slapped his forehead. "Dude, I'm not crazy! I really am America! I'm a national aromatherapy persecution or whatever the hell it's called!"

"It's _anthropomorphic personification_, you git," Arthur sighed, coming up beside the kidnapper and placing a hand on his shoulder. "Do quit before you hurt yourself."

Alfred (for that was what the President decided to refer to him now instead of 'the kidnapper' in his head) pouted and crossed his arms in a huff. "I'm not gonna hurt myself. And I told you I had this!"

"Obviously. Which is why the President is talking about you waltzing about in his skin or some such nonsense. Go join your brother and let me handle this."

Alfred rolled his eyes but gave in, searching around the clearing before finally spotting Matthew directly across from him and walking over to stand by his side.

The President sighed in relief. He liked Arthur, Arthur seemed sane. "Please tell me he's on medication or something."

"Not nearly enough, sir," Arthur sighed. "Listen, Mr. President...about Alfred. He's..."

"Insane? Crazy? Delusional?"

"Tactless," he clarified. "And while, yes, there are many ways in which he is...unbalanced...this is... not one of them."

The President narrowed his eyes distrustingly. "Arthur, what are you talking about?"

Arthur ran a hand through his already messy blonde hair and took a deep breath. "Perhaps it would be best if I just came out and said it. Mr. President, I know this is going to sound crazy and you'll probably think I'm completely mental, but if we could just return to the White House and get the proper documentation, we can clarify the situation."

"Arthur," the President repeated slowly, cautiously, "what are you talking about?"

"Alfred wasn't lying, sir," he explained slowly. "He really is the personification of the United States. I'm the personification of the United Kingdom, myself."

The President remained motionless in his chair, staring at the man with tired eyes. "The United Kingdom."

"England, more specifically. But as my brothers are incompetent fools, I take responsibility for the rest of the UK as well."

"So you're crazy too."

England sighed. "I know it must seem that way, but-"

The president laughed bitterly. "Of course it seems that way! I'm barely president for ten hours and I'm kidnapped out of my home in the middle of the night by a kid who thinks he's a _country_, and now the people who promised to _save_ me are not only _agreeing_ with him, but saying _they_ are countries too! So what are you, now?" He asked, pointing rigidly at Matthew who jumped a little in surprise. "We have America and England, who are you? Switzerland?"

"Actually, he's Canada," Alfred chirped with a grin. "But you were close!"

Matthew frowned. "America, Switzerland and I aren't even remotely similar..."

"Sure you are. You guys are like neighbors, right?"

"No, we're not. I live right above you, remember? Switzerland isn't even on the same content..."

"Meh, whatever, close enough."

The President watched the scene, completely dumbfounded. What the _Hell_ was going on with his life right now? Seriously. He contemplated freeing himself from the rest of the bounds now that his hands were free, but part of him hesitated to make any sudden movements. He didn't know what these men were capable of, and he knew well enough not to set crazy people off if he could help it. Especially when they outnumbered him.

"You see, you twit?" Arthur (not England, definitely not England) was screaming at Alfred. "This is what happens when you insist on doing unnecessary, pointless things! All you needed to do was give him the bloody book and be done with it!"

Alfred crossed his arms. "Dude, what part of tradition don't you understand? I do this every time I get a new boss and it always works out in the end! It would have been fine if you two didn't show up!"

"Times have changed, America! You can't just go around abducting people from their homes! You know better than anyone how dangerous things are nowadays!"

Alfred paused, dropping his defensive stance immediately. "Abducting huh...? Not a bad idea, actually. I'll have to talk to Tony about it next time."

Arthur slapped his forehead. "Oh bloody hell."

Matthew rolled his eyes, slipping around them to join the President. "I'm so sorry sir, I know this must be really confusing for you."

"No kidding."

He smiled. "While we wait for them to calm down, did you have any questions for me? I-I'm not going to lie and say I'm not Canada-" the President's face fell- "But if it will help you to understand things a little better, I would be happy to help..."

The President sighed heavily. Even though he was obviously just as crazy as the other two, he had a hard time acting anything but polite to Matthew for some reason. "No, no. It's just," he laughed, "at this point, I'm just waiting for some guy pop out of the woods with loaf of bread and a beret claiming to be France or something," he joked with a chuckle.

Behind him, there was a rustle in the trees. "_Bonjour mes amis_!" a very, _very_ French voice called. "I have finally found you!"

The President cursed. He really needed to learn how to keep his big mouth shut.

* * *

><p><strong>Honhonhon! <em>Bonjour<em> to you as well, France! About time you found your way to the rest of the gang! I was hoping I could keep him away longer, 'cause writing France is a pain in the butt with having to look up random French words and phrases the whole time, but he's a sneaky little guy and found his way in.**

**This chapter was really bipolar for me. I would be on a roll one minute and then all of a sudden I wouldn't be able to type out a single coherent sentence. I know I can tell where I struggled, but I'm crossing my fingers none of you can. XD I've been really busy lately getting ready to move and working for my dad's tree service business, so I'm glad I got this out!**

**Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Don't forget to check out my formspring (link in profile) if you ever want to ask me questions! :)**


	5. The Newcomer

Having chosen the profession of politics, the President pretty much expected to frequently be in the limelight. Being constantly under the scrutinizing gaze of the public was generally a given for any world leader, and to be honest, it wasn't something he minded terribly. He had always been a proficient public speaker, and was considered rather charming and charismatic by his teachers and peers growing up, so it was never really an issue for him.

That's not to say he didn't enjoy stepping off the stage now and then, of course. Occasionally he very much liked to take a seat and enjoy the performance rather than be the star of the show.

This, he reasoned to himself in what was unquestionably diabolic amusement, was very much one of those times.

"How the bloody hell did you find us so quickly?" Arthur exclaimed at their newest arrival.

The French man (who was _not _sporting a beret or a loaf of bread, thankfully) smiled sweetly and slid to the British man's side. "Why, _mon cher Angleterre_," he purred, creeping a hand around Arthur's waist with a predatory smirk. "Where there is _l'amour,_ there is a way."

Arthur let out a high pitched squeak before hauling back and punching the other man straight in the stomach. "How many times do I have to tell you to keep your vile hands away from my arse, you wanker?" he screamed.

Alfred laughed heartily while Matthew tiredly shook his head. "I'm glad you managed to find us, France," the Canadian sighed.

Arthur pouted. "That makes _one_ of us."

Once 'France' was able to catch his breath, he turned to Alfred and arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow, apparently used to that kind of abuse. "So, where is this new _Président_ of yours, _Amérique?"_

"Right over there," the boy replied, pointing to the President across the clearing with a smile. "You must have missed him while you were trying to molest England."

"Ah!" The man's eyes lit up as they landed on him, causing the President to tense subconsciously. "So I have. Well, it would be rude not to make the proper..._introductions, non_?"

"Don't you dare touch him, you pervert," Arthur warned. "He's helpless and he can't run away."

'France' chuckled, winking at the other man over his shoulder. "_Non non, mon cher_. I believe it was bondage that was _your_ kink, was it not?"

As Arthur flushed and sputtered, held back from attacking by a laughing Alfred ("Haha! You old, perverted European bastards"), 'France' arrived in front of the President and took his hand into his own with a flourish. "_Bonjour Monsieur Président. _I am the _très bon_ country of _France_." He kissed the top of his hand. "It is truly a pleasure to meet you."

"I don't know why you always gotta talk in the fruity language of yours, dude." Alfred crossed his arms, Arthur having cooled down enough to release. "You are literally the only one here who speaks it. Speak English like the rest of us."

Arthur scoffed. "Like anything _you_ say can be considered _English_."

"_I_ speak French, you know," Matthew chided, rolling his eyes. "And he's still not convinced we're countries yet, France, so you may want to tell him your human name, too."

"Ah, _oui_. I-" He blinked and turned to Alfred in confusion. "What were you _doing_ all morning, _mon ami_?"

"Other stuff!" he exclaimed. "God, I know what I'm doing, you guys! Get off my back already!"

'France' chuckled, waving him off before turning back to the President and bowing elegantly. "Francis Bonnefoy, _Monsieur._"

The president cocked an eyebrow. "So you're Francis from France, huh?"

Alfred beamed. "Dude, isn't that hilarious? I totally always thought that was super convenient!"

"Well, now that that is taken care of. Shall we head back to the White House an get everything sorted out properly?" Arthur asked.

Matthew nodded. "Good idea eh, I bet the other nations are getting tired of just waiting around for us."

"Other nations?" Alfred asked. "Who's all there?"

"Oh, the usual." Arthur shrugged. "All the old allies, Japan, I think Germany and Italy were thinking of coming, but I am unsure if they have arrived yet or not."

The young man moaned. "So you mean _Russia's_ there? And no one felt the need to tell me this?"

"Because we knew you would booby trap his room or something," Matthew snorted. "And besides, you _should_ have been there to greet everyone this morning anyway."

Alfred shrugged, grabbing a backpack from the base of one of the trees and slinging it over his shoulder. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. Anywho, we all set?"

The other men nodded, leaving the President alone in frantically shaking his head in the negative. "Um, no, I don't think so. There is no way I'm getting into a car with any of you."

Francis eyed Alfred wearily. "Seriously _Amérique_, what did you _do_ all morning?"

"Nothing!" he exclaimed.

"Obviously..."

Arthur sighed and put a reassuring hand on the world leader's shoulder. "Mr. President, I can assure you that you are in absolutely no danger and that we are all perfectly sane...except the frog of course."

The President scoffed. "You all think you're countries!"

"And if you just come with us back to the White House, we can- Oh!" Arthur cut himself off mid-sentence, his eyes curiously shifting to a spot just above the President's head. "Why hello there, love. What are you doing all the way out here?"

Alfred, Francis and Matthew collectively groaned. Arthur glared at them over his shoulder.

"Excuse me, that was very rude. Now, what were you saying, pet?"

"England, you do realize that talking to your imaginary friends is probably the worst possible thing you could do when you're trying to convince someone you're not crazy," Alfred asked, scratching the back of his neck.

Arthur narrowed his eyes dangerously. "They are not imaginary, you twat. Fairies are completely real, you're just not pure enough to see them."

"_Fairies?_" the President mouthed to the other men. Francis simply shrugged and shook his head in response.

Everyone turned their attention back to Arthur who was nodding seriously in understanding at the spot of nothing above the President's head. Suddenly, his eyes widened. "Bloody hell, you're right! I had forgotten about that!" he exclaimed, spinning to face the other men in excitement. "Alfred! Your new Vice President, his father was president a few years ago, wasn't he?"

Alfred cocked his head to the side. "Well, yeah, he was. But what does that have to do with any-" He froze, his eyes widening in understanding. "Dude! Chubs knows who I am!"

"Exactly! All we have to do is- wait, Chubs?"

Alfred blushed. "Well, he was kinda chubby when he was a kid and the nick-name just kinda stuck."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "You are so..._Never_ _mind._ Just have the President call the Vice President so we can get out of this God-forsaken forrest."

The younger man nodded and turned to the President with a grin. "Call the Vice President."

The President blinked and recoiled in the chair untrustingly. "Why?"

"Just do it. Tell him you met Alfred and ask him if you can trust me."

The President narrowed his eyes but wiggled around anyway, maneuvering himself to reach his pockets. "I'm not sure...I don't think I have my phone with me. Did you take it with you after you kidnapped me?"

Matthew and Francis snorted in the background as Alfred flushed lightly. "Oh yeah, heh. Yeah I grabbed it, one second." After digging around in his backpack he pulled out the phone and handed it to the President. "There ya go."

"Thank you. Just a moment." As he skimmed through his contacts for the familiar number, the President started to contemplate if he was actually starting to lose it as well. Of course the Vice President wouldn't know who this psychopath kid was! He figured he would go along with the call anyway, though. Maybe because he was missing for so long they had the phones rigged to locate his position so they could come to his rescue.

The phone rang twice before the Vice President's voice filled the phone with a happy "Hello?" The President sighed in relief at the familiarity. Even if the man was kind of mischievous and always seemed like he knew something the President didn't, the Vice President had come to be a good friend during the elections and he was comforted by familiar voice.

"Listen, it's the President. I need you to listen very carefully. I've-"

The Vice President laughed heartily on the other end of the line. "Let me guess," he interrupted. "You've met Alfred."

The President froze. "...What?"

"Alfred!" he repeated. "I figured you were with him when you weren't in your room this morning. Don't worry, I let the Missus know you were in good hands."

"_Good hands_?" he gasped, still not quite believing what he was hearing. "This guy is insane! He thinks he's America for crying out loud!"

The Vice President laughed again and the President really wished he would stop doing that. "You're going to be one of those, huh? Hey, just let him and- any of the other guys there too?"

The President stared dumbly at the four men across from him in the clearing. "Matthew, Arthur and Francis."

"Ah the whole gang, lucky you! Yeah, just let them bring you back to the House and I'll help them explain everything."

"...Okay."

"Hey," the Vice President's voice calmed a bit to a more reassuring tone, even if the laughter was still very much evident. "Just relax, okay, man? It's gonna be okay."

He sighed, rubbing his temple. "Right."

"I'll see you soon, okay? Stay tough!"

The President scoffed. "Uh-huh. See you soon." Ending the call, the President took a deep breath, looking up and locking eyes with the four anxious men staring back at him.

"Well?" Francis asked finally.

"Well, gentlemen. I am officially even more confused than I was before." He paused, as if trying to figure out if he was really ready to say these next words. "So what the hell? Let's go back to the White House."

* * *

><p><strong>Not too much to say here this time around. I enjoyed writing this chapter! FACE family fun times are always a good time. XD <strong>

**I am officially moving out of my childhood home/City/State in 2 weeks to live with my boyfriend on our own, so that is exciting and terrifying. XD Hopefully I'll still have time to write with all the packing I'll be doing.**

**I'm thinking about joining tumblr. I've been kinda stalking around it for a while and feel as though I would have a really good time on it, but honestly? I have no idea how it works, and I'm old and can't learn new tricks so I'm kinda afraid to. XD If I end up starting one up, I'll post a link on my profile (Which I updated, btw. :D)**

**Anyway, Hope you enjoyed this chapter! Stay tuned till next time! -Car**


	6. The Journey Back

They had retied his hands. They had also _untied_ the rest of his bounds and freed him from the chair, but they were still leading him back to the vehicles by his bound hands like a leash.

So far the walk out of the forrest wasn't a long one. At least, it wasn't as long as the President feared it would be. He had been asleep (unconscious...drugged...) on the way in, so he wasn't sure what to expect, but (thankfully?) his companions were filling in the time with the mindless chatter of old friends.

"Dude, France, how did you even get here so quickly?" Alfred asked. "That gas station is like, at least thirty minutes away walking."

"Ah, _mon ami._ I was in luck. After _cher rosbif_ stranded poor, defenseless, little _moi_, a _très belle _young woman arrived to, how you say, act as my savior."

"Poor and defenseless, my arse," Arthur grumbled.

Matthew crinkled his nose in distaste. "You had sex with her, didn't you?"

Francis smiled wistfully. "_Oui._ Right there in the _toilettes_."

"Dude!" Alfred exclaimed, shooting Francis what was quite possibly the most horrified look he had ever seen. "What the _fuck_, man? That was my favorite gas station! Dammit, now I wont be able to go in there without thinking of you- UGH!"

"Ah, do not worry _cher_, it was in the woman's _toilettes_." When Alfred didn't reply, Francis smirked. "_Cher, Amérique..._"

Alfred flushed. "_What?_ They're cleaner! Have you seen the men's bathroom in that place? I can't do my business surrounded by..._that!_"

Arthur simply snorted while Matthew grimaced in disgust. "That's gross, 'Mer," he mumbled.

"But as I was saying, after we..._had our fun_," Francis winked lewdly, "she was kind enough to drive me here."

"She probably hoped to get in some sort of terrible accident to cleanse herself from her mistakes and prevent anyone from doing the same," Arthur remarked coldly.

Francis's smug grin melted into an unconvincing, pseudo-pout, as he rested a reassuring hand on the Brit's shoulder. "Aw, _mon ami,_ there is no need to be jealous. There will always be a spot in my loins for you if you would simply ask."

"Not on your life, frog."

"Or possibly it is just your sexual repression? Perhaps _petit_ _Amérique _would be willing to..._give you a hand_, _non?_"

"Shut your bloody mouth, you insufferable twat!"

Alfred laughed heartily, throwing the arm that wasn't holding on to the rope around the President's shoulders. "Europeans, am I right?"

"Sure?" the President mumbled, the question mark clearly audible.

Alfred just laughed again, the booming sound mixing with the racket of Arthur and Francis fighting for the remainder of the time in the forrest.

* * *

><p>"Is that...a polar bear?" the President asked, his eyes widening in shock as the group made it out to the cars. Sitting in the passenger seat of an ordinary, red car was what appeared to be a small polar bear, gnawing absentmindedly on a maple leaf shaped air-freshener.<p>

"O-oh, yeah. He's mine." Matthew nodded, rubbing his neck nervously. "The White House staff doesn't like me leaving him there without any supervision, not after what happened with Mr. Reagan..."

The President blinked. "You own a polar bear." It was a statement, rather than a question.

"Uh-huh, his name is Ku...Kumo...Kuma-something."

"Dude, Canadia," Alfred chuckled, "learn your pet's name, would'ya?"

Matthew blushed, crossing his arms in a huff. "You're one to talk! Why don't you learn your _brother's_ name, eh?"

"I know it." Alfred shrugged. "It's Canadia."

"It's CANADA, you hoser! Ca-na-da!"

"That's what I said!" Matthew fumed, as Alfred brushed aside their argument and clapped his hands together. "Alright, let's get going! You three-" he pointed to Arthur, Francis and Matthew, "-can ride together, and I'll drive back with the President."

Arthur scoffed. "And why should the three of us ride in Canadia's ("It's Canada!") little car, while the two of you drive back in _that_ monstrosity?"

At this point, the President finally glanced over and noticed exactly what Alfred had apparently driven them there in, and promptly wondered how he had managed to miss it. _It _was a huge, black, stretch Cadillac limousine, assumedly bulletproof, with an emblem on the back door and two familiar flags waving proudly on the front hood.

"You took one of my cars?" he asked, not even a little bit surprised at this point.

Alfred simply shrugged and grinned at him before he turned back to Arthur. "'Cause we have super secret American business to take care of, duh."

"Oh," Francis piped in condescendingly, "Like that 'super secret _Américain _business_' _you had to take care of at the local McDonalds during the last G8 summit?"

The young man shrugged. "They brought back the McRib in Berlin."

"No." Arthur shook his head, crossing his arms stubbornly. "You will be accompanied by either the frog or myself to insure you do not get in any more trouble than you already have. And since the frog is a bloody pervert, I nominate myself."

"Aw, come on, England!" Alfred whined. "Please? I really do have important stuff to talk to him about! You guys can drive behind us and keep an eye on us, okay? That way we wont do anything stupid!"

Arthur seemed unswayed, his eyes rock hard and his stance unwavering. "America-"

"Pleeeeease?" Alfred whimpered, his blue eyes wide and pleading. "Pretty, pretty please with scones on top?"

Arthur's wall began to crack- his eyes twitched as his teeth snuck out to bite at his lower lip.

"You must resist, _Angleterre_," Francis cheered in what was obviously amusement rather than true encouragement. "Do not give in!"

Alfred, seeing his chance, went in for the win. "Please...Engwand?"

"F-fine!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air in surrender. "But I'm not doing this for your sake! I just don't want to deal with your stupidity for the entire car ride!" Storming off, Arthur threw the door to the red car open, plopped wrathfully into the back seat, and slammed it closed once again.

Francis sighed dramatically. "_P__eu ridicule en Angleterre_..." he chuckled. "Well, now that that is over. Let us, how you say, hit the road?"

Alfred and Matthew nodded, Matthew going with the Frenchman to his car, as Alfred wrapped a friendly arm around the President's shoulders and guided them to his own. "Don't worry about that little hissyfit okay, man? England can be a little bitchy sometimes." He grinned.

The President raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Totally!" Alfred laughed. "Dude, you should have seen him after the Boston Tea Party. Holy shit, do not get between that man and his tea!"

The President winced, suddenly remembering just how batshit crazy these men really were. He had to admit, between the clearing and the road he had, despite the constant use of countries as names, forgotten they were anything but a few old friends. Silly him, _they thought they were nations_.

"And you were," he began slowly, carefully, "_there_ at the Boston Tea Party?"

"Oh yeah!" he chirped, unlocking the impressive limousine and opening the passenger door for the President. "I was right there in all the action! Man, what a rush!" He grinned, slamming the door and skipping around the front to get in the driver's seat himself. "Man, England was friggin' _pissed_, though!"

The President pursed his lips, deciding to ignore the fact he was (sort of) willingly getting into a car with a crazy person. At least until they got back and his Vice President could shed some light onto the situation.

Alfred started the car, rolling down his window as Matthew pulled up next to him. "So I'll lead the way, and you guys keep close behind." He turned his head, as Kuma-something was still inhabiting the passenger seat, to speak directly to the still puffed up Arthur next to the altogether entertained Francis in the back. "Don't want me to do anything stupid, ya know!"

"Piss off!" he snapped back, causing Alfred to laugh heartily as he rolled up the window.

"Man, that guy is so freakin' British!" Checking his blind spot, Alfred pulled onto the highway, heading in the direction of Washington DC.

* * *

><p>The car ride was a little awkward, in American's humble opinion. He had never been one for silence, be it comfortable or, in this case, uncomfortable, because two people should always be able to find <em>something<em> to talk about.

Especially two people that would be spending a lot of time together over the next four to eight years.

"So," he started, probably a little more desperately than he intended, "you got any questions about this whole President gig? I'm probably the go-to guy if you do."

The President peaked at him out of the corner of his eye and shook his head. "No."

America pushed his glasses up higher on his nose. "Listen, you ain't still upset about that whole kidnapping thing, are you? 'Cause I told you, it was nothing personal or anything, I do that with all of my new bosses."

The President pursed his lips. "All of your bosses, huh?"

"Well, maybe not Washington. We were a little busy at the time, you understand."

"Of course."

America eyed the man with a smirk. "You still don't believe me," he sang, his exclamation dripping with fake astoundment before laughing.

The President flushed a little, seemingly embarrassed to be caught in his skepticism, "You have to admit, it's a little hard to believe."

"Oh yeah, I totally get that." He nodded. "I mean, besides me and the other guys, you don't really have anyone to believe. Not like England, who has the whole royal family to back him up with his Prime Ministers. Good thing for Chubs, huh? We totally lucked out that he's your VP!"

The President furrowed his brows. That was right, apparently his Vice President knew this was all going to happen somehow. And he didn't tell him. That bastard. "Lucky, sure," he grumbled.

"Aw, come on Mr. Grumpy Gills!" America exclaimed, much to the President's annoyance. "Once we get to the White House and you talk to Chubs, you'll get to meet the other nations! Japan is a really cool guy, he comes over to play video games and stuff with me sometimes, so you'll see him a lot. And Italy and Germany, who are seriously probably the worst kept secret in history. For sure."

At the President's confused glance, America grinned.

"You'll see what I mean. And yeah, sure, the Commie is there, too but China should be able to keep him in line. Oh! And wait until you meet Tony! Dude, you are going to love him!"

The President perked up at the seemingly regular, human name. He was pretty sure there was no nation called 'Tony'. "Tony?"

"Yep! He's my best friend! He's from this planet in the Omega Centauri Galaxy and-"

"Oh good God."

America chuckled. "Don't worry, you'll read about him in the book too."

"Okay," The President snapped, "You have brought up this book at least three times now, what are you talking about?" He crossed his arms and looked at America expectantly.

The young nation responded with a shrug. "You know, The Book, the President's Book." At his boss' blank stare, he continued. "Of secrets? Come on, didn't you see _National Treasure_?"

"Well, sure but-" he froze and blinked. "It's real?"

America smiled mischievously. "You'll find out soon enough."

They fell, once again, into an uncomfortable silence, much to America's irritation. Man, he just wanted to tell the President everything right then and there, but alas, he had promised, nay, made an oath to go about this process in a very specific way, and by God, he was going to keep to that oath.

Well, except for that kidnapping thing. He added that in there himself, but you can't punish a guy for wanting to have a little fun.

Thankfully, a loud honk and a sudden swerving of the red car that was keeping close behind their own drew their attention away from the silence .

"I hope they're okay back there..." the President mumbled.

America laughed. "Nah, don't worry dude, I'm sure they're fine!"

* * *

><p>"I swear, if you do not remove your slimy hands from my person, I will throw you from this bloody car!"<p>

France held his hands in surrender. "_Calmez-vous, Angleterre!_ Calm yourself! I will lay not a finger on you."

"Eep!" England squeaked.

France calmly removed his hand from under England's bottom. "Starting now."

"You intolerable wanker!"

Canada's eye twitched, observing his old mentors in a brutal boxing match in his back seat. Finger's white knuckled around the steering wheel, he cleared his throat roughly. "Um, excuse me, guys..."

"Oh yeah? Well, you're so ugly, that when you run into a boggart, it transforms into a mirror!" England snapped, forcibly pulling at France's long hair.

France gasped, "Well! For your _information_, you are so ugly, that when you were a pirate, your entire crew had to wear _deux _eyepatches!_"_

"G-guys..." Canada stuttered, "C'mon. I can't concentrate on driving if you two-"

"Is that so? Well your mother was so fat that her Patronus was a cake!"

"Your _maman_ was so fat, she could have been the eighth continent!"

Canada sunk down miserably. "You've never even _had _mothers..."

"The first thing French students learn in school is how to say 'I surrender' in German!"

"Ah, but the second is how to cook and brush our teeth, two endeavors that have yet to reach across the Channel."

Canada lost it. "THAT IS IT," he exlaimed. "IF I HEAR ONE MORE PEEP OUT OF EITHER OF YOU BEFORE WE GET TO THE WHITE HOUSE, I WILL TURN THIS CAR AROUND AND I WILL LEAVE YOU BACK AT THE FORREST. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

France and England, eye wide, nodded furiously.

Canada smiled pleasantly. "Good. How about a little music, eh?" As he flipped on the radio and shared his love of the song playing with Kumajiro, the Europeans exchanged frightful glances, but remained where they were, far apart and quiet.

* * *

><p><strong>I'm so sorry this is so late! Since the last chapter, I have partially moved to Montana, started my 8 hours a day, 5 days a week summer job, and because it is Montana, have been invited to go camping every weekend. I snuck out of it this weekend though, and sent the boyfriend out on his own with his friends while I worked on this and enjoyed my girly TV channels and pedicures with my friends with the boyfriend gone. XD<strong>

**Yes, I'm blatantly ripping off _National Treasure_ and "Who's the man on page 47?" by Mizu falls from Kumo, one of my favorite crossover fics, but I couldn't help myself!**

**ALSO I am making a promise to reply to ALL of the comments I get on this chapter! I've never really thought to do it before, for who knows why, so I'm going to give it a shot! :D Can't wait to talk to all of you fine readers! If it goes well, I'll give it a shot for my next chapter too. XD**


	7. The First Lady

Once through the appropriate security checkpoints (which were _way_ easier than the President expected; most were passed with a wave, smile and a 'hey there Alfred!' before they were on their way), they pulled into the armored car garage and parked.

"Okay, so a quick warning," America said, spinning the keyring around on finger after locking the stolen vehicle up. "You think me and those dudes back there are weird? You ain't seen nothing yet, bro. We are talking every nation we've like, ever been at war with since my birth, all in one room."

The President raised an eyebrow, smirking. "Birth? I thought you were a country."

America narrowed his eyes. "_Discovery_ then. Man, I was only trying to- you know what, not the point. Crazy-ass ex- nazis, commies, kamikazes, commienazis and so on, all in that room. Keep cool."

"I'll do my best."

"I'm sensing sarcasm."

The President grinned. "_Nooo._"

America rolled his eyes, motioning for the President to follow as he made his way to Canada's approaching car. "You are seriously making me regret not voting for the other guy right now."

* * *

><p>A small line of delegates and secret service men stood patiently in the entryway, the same stoic, unchanging expression on each of their faces as the small cluster of men walked into the White House. As they came into view, each agent saluted. Alfred waved excitedly in response.<p>

"Hey guys!" he exclaimed, walking down the line. Periodically he would stop at every other person or so and strike up a conversation. "Oh Tom, how's the baby? She sleeping through the night yet? Yo! 'Sup, Damarin? Did you ever end up finding your truck? Bitches be crazy, am I right? Abigail! Did you do something with your hair? You know how I have a thing for blondes, you minx."

"Honestly, you are supposed to be acting professionally," Arthur snapped, rolling his eyes, grabbing ahold the younger man's sleeve and dragging him down the hall. Just behind them, Francis winked suggestively and blew a kiss at Abigail as Canada smiled pleasantly and continued to go unnoticed by everyone.

The President let is eyes wander as the group found their way through a large pair of double, wooden doors and up a large staircase. He still hadn't had time to really come to terms to the fact that he actually_ lived_ here now. It really was a beautiful building, he thought to himself with a smile. It was too bad he had been fucking kidnapped; he would have really liked to check out the place.

"Here we are!" Alfred's chipper voice ran through the halls, snapping the President out of his daze. "The Oval Office! T-Dizzle told me everyone was waiting up here."

"Ah, young _Monsieur_ Tyler," Francis purred. "He has a _très magnifique_-"

"S-shouldn't we go inside now?" Matthew squeaked, taking everyone by surprise. "They've been waiting a while, eh?"

The President nodded. "I agree with Mitchel, I would like to be done with this nonsense by dinner if at all possible."

With a nod, America pushed the large oak door open.

The President blinked. There was his wife... And she was surrounded by attractive men.

She was sitting on his desk, facing the circle of men formed on the couches and miscellaneous chairs that had been pulled into the area. A few of them were sipping on mugs of coffee or tea and chatting amongst themselves, nibbling on a small plate of cheese and crackers set on coffee table between the couches. The First Lady was deep in conversation with a small, exotic looking man on an old rocking chair who was waving his arms about animatedly.

"And that is how you make the perfect plate of pasta!" he exclaimed, his Italian accent easily detectable.

His wife beamed and clapped her hands excitedly. "Oh Feliciano, that sounds lovely!" she chirped. "Now, how long was it you said you should saute the onions and garlic together?"

"Ah, just until they are a golden brown. It is very _delizioso_!" He got a dreamy look in his eye before he spun to face the stoic looking blonde man sitting to his left on an old office swivel chair. "Don't you agree Germany? Isn't it _delizioso?"_

The man's face remained blank as he took a small sip of his drink and sighed. "_Ja, sehr gut."_

"See! Even Germany likes it! And let me tell you, he can be picky."

The First Lady giggled, ruffling the little Italian's hair. "Oh you are just the sweetest little- Oh, Hi honey! Who are your friends?"

The room silenced as every head turned to face the door. The President stared, mouth agape as Alfred jumped into action, waving excitedly at everyone. "Hey dudes!" he called. "Thanks for comin' to meet my new boss! Sorry it took us so long. Had some political stuff to take care of this morning."

"Political my arse," Arthur scoffed from somewhere behind the President. A French accented chuckle followed.

"Would certainly explain a lot of American politics though, _non?_"

The President open a closed his mouth a few times before clearing his throat harshly. "H-honey...? What is- I mean...who _are_ these people?"

Her eyes widened almost comically as she hopped off his desk and skipped over to him, grabbing his upper arm and dragging him to the circle. "These are the NPP representatives!" She spun around and pushed the President forward so he was staring uncomfortably at the room full of young men. "Boys, I would like you to meet the new President! Go on, say hi Sweetie." She pushed him forward and beamed.

"Uh...Hi?"

"Oh, that was pathetic. Try again, like you mean it. You're the president, for god's sake."

A hearty laugh broke in, Alfred strolling up to the First Lady's side with his hands behind his head casually. "Nah, don't give these jerks any more than that, Sir. They'll start to get cocky."

The First Lady blinked, taking in this newcomer's experience before settling on his handsome face with a small smile. "I'm sorry, you are...?"

"Oh!" Alfred exclaimed, thrusting his right hand out to her. "Alfred F. Jones, ma'am! NPP representative of the United States of America!" He saluted with a wink. "At your service."

The First Lady blinked, her face slowly breaking out into a wide, bright grin as realization hit her. "Oh! Oh my, you're gorgeous!" she breathed, shaking his hand enthusiastically. "I-I mean, It's wonderful to meet you, Mr. Jones. I look forward to working with you." She paused. "Do you work out?"

The President rolled his eyes as Alfred chuckled. "For at least an hour every day ma'am. Except on Sundays."

Francis, obviously never one to miss out on the attention of a beautiful woman, slid up to Alfred's right and extended his own hand to the First Lady. "_Bonjour __ma chérie,_" he purred, taking her hand in his and kissing the top of it softly. "I am Francis Bonnefoy of _France_."

"Oh my," she giggled, blushing lightly.

Francis was pushed harshly out of the way, reveling a scowling Arthur. "Belt up frog, she's married," he snapped, turning to the First Lady and holding out his hand to her like a true English gentleman. "How do you do, Mrs. President? My name is Arthur Kirkland. I am the nation of England and the representative of the United Kingdom. It is a pleasure to meet your acquaintance."

The First Lady's face slowly flushed into a deep red as she shyly extended her hand. "H-hello," she answered back breathlessly. "The pleasure is all mine, Mr. Kirkland." She bit her lip and smiled flirtatiously. "You must hear this all the time, but I _love_ your accent."

Arthur instantly puffed up proudly, a cocky grin gracing his boyish features. "Well! I've always believed British English to be the most superior language in the world, so I can imagine that-"

"Careful _rosbif_, or your head will swell too big for the room," Francis grumbled, clearly irritated that the First Lady didn't react to _him_ that way. Arthur smirked.

"Careful yourself, frog, your jealousy is showing."

"Okay guys," a quiet voice broke in. "Now is not the time."

Everyone spun around to the doorway where Matthew stood, his arms crossed over his chest. Alfred raised an eyebrow. "Dude, when did you get here?"

Matthew huffed in irritation, "I've been here the whole time!" He walked up to the first lady and shook her hand gently. "Hello ma'am, I'm Matthew Williams, the NPP representative of Canada."

The First Lady smiled warmly. "Well aren't you a sweetheart! It's very nice to meet you, Marshal. Has anyone ever told you you look remarkably like Alfred?"

"It's Matthew, actually," he replied with a small, accepting smile. "And yes, he's my brother."

"Oh!" she cheered. "Isn't that something? It sort of makes sense for America and Canada to be siblings, doesn't it?"

The President cleared his throat, apparently having enough of this nonsense, and took his wife by the arm. "Honey, can I talk to you for a second?"

She glanced up at him in confusion. "Uh, sure, sweetie. What is it?"

"In private."

The First Lady pursed her lips before turning back to the room and informing everyone they would be right back. A mixture of different languages responded as she and the President slipped into the doorway, their backs turned to the rest of the room. "Yes?"

"You don't _actually_ believe all of these lunatics, do you?" The President asked in a whisper.

The First Lady furrowed her eyebrows. "Of course I do. Why wouldn't I?"

The President could not believe he was hearing this. "Because they think they're countries, Honey!"

"They _are_ countries, dear."

The President gaped. "You have got to be kidding me."

"Of course not." The First lady rolled her eyes. "The Vice President told me all about it. It's all in that book that you're supposed to read, _The President's Book_ or something like that, I don't remember. It's all there, though, everything you need to know about the NPP. Very interesting stuff. It left out how attractive they all are, though."

"Alfred did mention a book," the President thought back. "I assumed he was just making things up, though."

The First lady shook her head. "Oh no, go find the VP, I think he had it last." She smiled. "When you get back I'll introduce you to the rest of them. Little Feliciano gave me his recipe for pasta! Can you believe it? Northern Italy itself, telling me how to make pasta! I bet it's heaven."

The President shook his head. "I need to go find this book."

"I'll come with ya!"

Everyone jumped, spinning around to find Alfred grinning happily. "What the hell, Alfred?" the President exclaimed. "Were you listening in this whole time?"

"Nah, just after I heard my name. Come on, we'll go find Chubs together! I haven't seen that dude in ages."

Alfred, using the crazy strength of his, pulled the President down the hallway, leaving his wife to happily wave goodbye before disappearing back into the Oval Office.

* * *

><p><strong>I love you, First Lady. She's such a fun person to write. XD I'M STILL ALIVE, GUYS! I survived my first week as a real teacher! Just barely though. XD Seriously, anyone who plans to be a teacher someday, prepare yourself for more work than you've ever dreamed of. Especially elementary teachers. My boyfriend is longterm subbing at the high school and he's not nearly stressed as I am. The bastard. XD<strong>

**ANYWAY! New chapter! We're almost to the point of learning wtf is going on! I was going to have the VP and President's Book in this chapter, but the characters got away from me and the First Lady took over this chapter and ruined all my plans. XD Ah well, she deserved it for being so awesome. **

**NEW POLL on my profile! Let's you pick which one-shot I'm going to write next. Check it out! **

**As always, have a nice day, kids!  
>-Car <strong>


	8. The Book

"Where the hell are you taking me?"

America beamed. "I'm not kidnapping you again, if that's what you're asking."

"...While reassuring, it is _not_ what I'm asking. What I'm asking is where you're taking me. Hence why I asked where you are taking me."

America threw his hands behind his head in order to fain complete relaxation and drive the other man even more crazy. "Oh, just somewhere special."

The President glared. "You annoy me."

America grinned. "That's what William Harrison said too at first, but he grew to love me and so will you."

The President blinked. "Alfred, he _died_ after a month in office."

"...Okay, not the best example." America shrugged. "Just trust me okay? Chubs went and got the Book from the Library of Congress this morning, so when we get to the Blue Room, you'll see I haven't been lying!"

The President made a noncommittal hum as America continued to lead him across the White House, hope and excitement clearing gleaming in his eyes. This was always his favorite part, proving to his bosses he was the United States of America. The look on their faces was aways priceless, and for the first (and usually last, since they all got to know him eventually) time, they would give him a look of complete and total respect.

America would never get tired of that.

* * *

><p>The door to the Blue Room was open when they got there, the tall form of the Vice President visible from behind as Alfred knocked three times on the door frame to announce their arrival.<p>

The VP spun around, his warm brown eyes meeting the President's own before a big, stupid smile inched it's way onto his misleadingly sophisticated, handsome face.

He was a good man, the Vice President. A few good years older than the President himself, with children in college or having children of their own, yet still as unfairly naturally good looking as he was in his twenty's. He was a child of politics, the son of a successful one term President who chose not to run a second time allegedly in order to spend more time with his young, rapidly growing family.

Despite his success in the political world, most who knew him personally attributed it to his good genes and dumb luck, rather than his personality itself. He was a prankster, never one to take things incredibility seriously but could still get things done, and was generally respected and admired by the younger generation for this reason, despite his age.

The First Lady was a good friend of the Vice President's youngest sister (he was one of five children, the middle child and the only boy), and it was she who suggested to her husband to think about the then Senator as a potential running-mate.

"He'll make voters feel comfortable," she would often say. "No one wants a grump taking another grump's place if he gets whacked."

Which is probably the last thing you ever want to hear coming from your wife, but whatever.

Despite their differences, the Vice President had been a good choice, not only supplying him with a lifetime of knowledge on politics, but helping him to gain the approval of the originally less than impressed younger and older vote. Both things he struggled to admit he desperately needed. After a time, he even dared to think of the other man as a friend.

But if this whole Alfred thing ended up being his idea of a joke, he was going kill him.

"Alfred!" the Vice President exclaimed, holding his arms out welcomingly. "Why, you haven't changed a bit!"

"Chubs!" Alfred squealed, sprinting forward and absorbing the other man in a hug. "You've got old!" He pulled himself away to give him a once-over. "And skinnier. Been laying off those donuts, I see?"

The VP laughed heartily, slapping Alfred on the back. "And I see _you've_ been enjoying them copiously!"

"Ooooh, low blow, dude! Low blow!"

The President stood off to the side somewhat awkwardly, shuffling on his feel and fidgeting with his hands, trying to figure out what exactly to do with them.

To be honest, he felt like that one awkward girl they always had on the Bachelor would probably feel during that first episode. You know, the one that wasn't quite as hot as the others, and was exiled for that _exact reason_ even though the guy was always like 'we just didn't click' but come on, you know it's because she's ugly. And you also know that out of all those bitches she probably had the most personality. And she was probably even fairly attractive in real life, but next to all those slutty bitches, anyone would seem like-

The President cut himself off right there. It was _definitely_ not the time or place for that.

"Anyway," Alfred was saying, "Mr. President needs a little bit of convincing. You got the Book, right?"

The Vice President stepped to the side, allowing them a full view of the contents of the top of the desk. "Right here. Be careful Al, you know more than I do how fragile this thing is."

Alfred rolled his eyes. "That was _one time_. Besides, they got the cover replaced, didn't they? Anyway!" He spun and faced the President, clutching the large Book to his chest. "Here it is, the answer to all your questions!" He skipped over to a fancy looking chair near the wall and gestured to the chair across from him, offering the President to do the same. "Have a seat."

The President raised an eyebrow but did as he was told. The Vice President pulled a chair over to them as well, sitting down and looking at Alfred expectantly.

"Okaaay," the young man drawled, flipping quickly yet carefully through the pages. "Page forty-seven, page forty-seven, page forty- got it! Here." He spun the Book around and unceremoniously plopped it into the President's lap, prompting a soft 'oof' at the sudden weight. "Okay, this is my chapter. See that?" He pointed to the old fashioned, black and white picture at the top of the page. "That's me! Waaay back in 1900! Man, I was so much skinnier back then," he sighed wistfully.

The President rolled his eyes, but chanced a glance at the page anyway.

Sure enough, there was Alfred.

"What the-?" he coughed out in surprised. That picture really looked just like Alfred! He checked for signs of photoshop, just to be safe.

The Vice President laughed and patted the boy on the shoulder. "That's because you hadn't invented WacDonalds yet!"

Alfred chuckled, patting his stomach appreciatively. "Dark times, man."

The President snapped his head up, narrowing his eyes suspiciously. "So you found a picture of someone who happens to look like you in an old book. That still doesn't mean you're a country."

"Keep reading, Sir," the Vice President replied calmly, a small playful smile on his lips. The President continued glaring but turned his gaze back to the page.

_The Nation Personification Project_

_The Nation Personification Project (NPP) is one of the longest running government programs still in existence today. The NPP is dedicated to the intelligence, protection and preservation of the phenomenon of National Personifications (NPs)_

_NPs are known to exist for each present nation. Some nations, specifically those who have had different governments, lifestyles, or have been separate countries at one point, may have more than one NP for each of these separate areas. It is unknown at this time where the NPs come from, as well as where they go when a country is disbanded. _

_NPs are directly influenced by various elements of their representative nation. Lifestyle, politics, environment, and warfare have been shown to have repercussion on a NP's demeanor, mood, and physical wellbeing. However, this does not seem to be in effect in reverse. What physically effects the NP does not effect their representative nation. _

_Each NP has a human codename given to them by their respective governments upon their discovery. This codename is what to be used when in the presence civilians so as not to arise suspicion of the NP's true identity. This allows the NP to live a relatively normal life when not involved in government affairs in accordance of the NPP Privacy act of 1914. _

_NPP Profile for __**The United States of America**_

_Official Name: United States of America _

_Other Aliases: America_

_Codename: Alfred Foster Jones_

_Gender: Male_

_Age Appearance: 19 _

_Date of "Birth"/Independence: July 4__th_

_Permanent Residence: New York City, NY_

_NP Relatives: Canada (Matthew Williams), Twin Brother; Native America (__Tsenacommacah), Mother (disbanded)_

_Personality: Energetic, headstrong, and confident. Processes superhuman strength. Values quantity over quality and has a talent for science and mathematics. Has a vivid imagination but can be closed minded on matters that do not involve him directly. _

_**EDIT 1947**: Has volunteered to take in the Extraterrestrial being codenamed "Tony" (see: Roswell UFO Incident, page 88) for it's protection. See chapter 9 for more details. _

The chapter continued on with information on some the other NPs and their representative country's relation to the United States, but the President found he couldn't quite read any more at that point in time. He was pretty sure he had seen enough.

Glancing up almost shyly, he saw Alfred laughing heartily with the Vice President, completely relaxed and comfortable, unaware of the mindfuck he had literally just dropped into the President's lap. Without attracting attention to himself, he flipped through the pages of the chapter until he found the very last paragraph of the very last page of the section.

_As with the citizens of the nation, the NP is bound by law to act as the president's subordinate and is under oath by the laws of treason to follow direction and orders of the current president. As such the NP is a vital and useful component of the presidency, and should be treated with honor and respect._

Pursing his lips, the President thought back to his conversation with the old president, that day right after the election.

"_Now, you may hear some folks talkin' about you being America's boss." _The man had chuckled with a sniff_. "I will tell you right now, that is the biggest load of garbage you will ever be told in this here house, cross my heart. You ain't America's boss, America is the boss of you...whether you like it or not." _

The President gulped, suddenly understanding_ exactly_ what he had been talking about.

"Hey! How you doin' over there, boss?" Alfred's chipper voice chirped, knocking him out of his thoughts. "Learning anything good?"

The President blinked at him with big eyes, knowing full well a look of astonishment and disbelief graced his face. "A-America?" he squeaked, not once breaking eye contact.

Alfred-no _America_ instantly perked. He grinned, his eyes crinkling and his back going just a bit straighter. "Aw shucks, dude, you don't have to call me that! I know it's like, super weird for you humans, so just call me Alfred, bro!"

The President nodded, not sure of what else he could do in this situation, so settling on that. "I-I'm sorry I doubted you," he mumbled, hanging his head.

Alfred laughed. "Hey, no worries, dude! I can't tell you how many of my bosses I've had to convince!" He pointed to the Vice President with his thumb. "It took me almost a week to get Chub's dad to believe me!

The Vice President chuckled. "I knew it right away of course. I think kids just have this 6th sense about this kind of stuff. You should think about having them meet the kids, I'm sure they'll get a kick out of him."

"You have kids?" Alfred asked excitedly. "I love kids! How old are they?"

"Ten and five," he mumbled, still slightly in shock.

Alfred was still beaming. "Aw, cool! Great age!" He stood up, scooping up the Book once again and walking it across the room to place to gently on the desk. "How about we go meet with the rest of the guys in the Oval Office, then you and your wife can take us all to meet the kids! The other nations will be around a lot, so it's probably best if they meet them all now."

The President nodded, glancing to his Vice President in a silent plea for advice. The VP simply shrugged, smiling a secretive little smile. "You guys go on, I'll take the Book to your study so you can read up more on it later, okay?"

"Great!" Alfred gave a thumbs up and threw his arm securely around the President's shoulder. "Come on, boss! Let's go officially meet the gang!"

As they walked back through the hallways, the President couldn't help thinking to himself...What on earth had he gotten himself in to?

* * *

><p><strong>And Mr. President FINALLY believes him! ...8 chapters later! XD I've secretly been dreading writing this chapter because I somehow had to adequately explain my theories on the whole nation personification thing. So I hope that NPP thing wasn't too confusing! <strong>

**In other news, TOMORROW IS MY BIRTHDAY! I'm turning 23, which is crazy because that seems really old to me. XD Oh well, I'm bringing brownies for my students tomorrow and apparently they have gifts for me, so maybe all the stress and blood and sweat and tears will be worth it. XD**

**And in other OTHER news, the amazing Flocon de Neige or MochaMuffin as she's known on dA is making a doujin of my fic "The Gentleman and the Pea"! **** The link to the first page is up at my profile, so it would mean a lot to me if you could go and check that out and tell her how amazing she is, because she really is amazing! Please? For my birthday? :)**

**Anyway, long AN is long, so I'll let you all go. Have a great day!  
>-Car <strong>


	9. The Introductions

The President stood tall next to America, albeit a little self-consciously, waiting for the personification to open the door to the oval office.

"Relax dude," he was saying with a chuckle. "These guys are nothing. _I'm_ what's most important, and we're buds, right? So chill!"

The President couldn't help but scoff. "Easy for you to say. You've known these...er, people for hundreds of years."

"Which is exactly why you should trust me!" America said happily, elbowing the President lightly in his side. "C'mon!"

The door was opened and instantly all heads turned their way. The First Lady, still sitting on his desk, only now talking to a smiley brunette gentleman he hadn't noticed before in a chair to her left, smiled and waved excitedly. "How did it go?"

"Awesome!" America exclaimed, throwing a friendly arm around his bosses shoulder. "He doesn't think I'm crazy anymore!"

"Well, I wouldn't go that far," the President mumbled, prompting light chuckles from the rest of the room as well as a pout from America. He forced a warm smile onto his lips and scanned his eyes over the room. "Thank you all for coming, I'm looking forward to working together with all of you."

The First Lady hopped off the desk and walked up between America and the President, taking her husband's hand in her own. "Well Alfred, why don't you introduce him to everyone?"

America beamed. "Hell yeah! Follow me!"

They started off on the right side of the room, where France and England were in the middle of a heated conversation involving their respective cuisines (or so it would be assumed, the words "charcoal" and "snails" were heard at least twice).

"I believe you've already met these crazy, old bastards," America chuckled. England and France instantly broke apart.

"Excuse me?" England exclaimed, crossing his arms in a huff. "I can't say the same for the frog, but I am neither crazy nor old thank you very much!"

France clutched his heart dramatically, his other hand flying to his eyes to cover his imaginary tears from being seen. "Oh _Amérique_! You wound me!" He sighed heavily, turning around and draping himself over the smiley brunette his wife had been talking to earlier. "Did you hear that, _mon ami_? _Amérique_ called me crazy. And old."

The man laughed heartily, patting the Frenchman's head with a fond expression on his slightly tanned face. "Well, you are kind of old compared to him, _amigo_!" he sang, a thick Spanish accent accompanying his words.

The President smiled at the man as France tried his wallowing act on a small Asian man across the circle. "I'm sorry, I don't think we've met," he tried, extending his hand for a handshake.

The man beamed, grabbing his hand and shaking it up and down excitedly. "_¡Ay!_ It is good to meet you _Señor Presidente!_ I am _España_, or Spain, but you are welcome to call me Antonio Fernandez Carriedo, it is my codename!"

The President opened his mouth to reply, but was instantly shushed as Spain continued talking.

"Have you meet Romano? _¡Ven! _I'll introduce you!"

America, who had remained suspiciously quiet during this whole period, chuckled quietly. "This'll be good. Don't be too offended, okay dude? He's like this with everyone."

The President blinked. Out of the corner of his eye he watched his wife run off to join back up with England (oh god, she was _giggling_) with a huge smile on her face. He turned back to America and raised an eyebrow in confusion. "Like wha-?"

"What do _you_ want, you stupid tomato bastard? Who's this idiot_?_"

Ah.

Spain seemed unaffected however, simply gesturing to the President and America and smiling pleasantly. "This is _América's_ new boss, Romano! Go on, say _hola!"_

Romano gave the President a once over before puffing his cheeks up in annoyance. "Fuck off."

Spain's smile finally broke at that, dropping into a worried frown. "Romano, that wasn't nice. We came all this way to meet the new_ presidente,_ you should be nicer to him."

"I never wanted to come, stupid Veneziano and that bicep with legs forced me here," Romano snapped.

Spain laughed, his smile coming back once again in full force. "You are such a kidder!" He turned back to the President and grinned. "He is very happy to be here!"

The President blinked, obviously skeptical. "Is he?"

"Alright, catch you guys later!" America chirped, swooping in and guiding them across the room. Once out of earshot, America turned to the President and whispered hurriedly in his ear. "Best not to stick around those guys too long." He then mimed slitting his throat, dramatically poking out his tongue before laughing and guiding them to a tall, pale, wall of a man and the small Asian man France had been attempting to flirt with earlier.

The taller of the two was the first to acknowledge them (the other apparently still focusing his eyes on the Frenchman... just in case), and turned to them with a smile. "Ah, America!" he exclaimed, "It is our turn to meet your new boss now, yes?"

This got the other man's attention, breaking his surveillance to eye them warily. "Ayah, try to be nice," he grumbled, his eyes still roaming suspiciously.

"Hey there, China, Russia," America greeted, a little too friendly. "Thought I might as well introduce the boss to the Commies now and get it over with!"

China rolled his eyes and mumbled something in Chinese before extending a hand forward for the President to shake with a smile. "_Ni hao_," he said pleasantly.

The President smiled back, shaking the smaller man's hand firmly. "Pleasure to meet you Mister..."

"Wang Yao, but just Yao is fine."

The President smiled, enjoying this man's ancient, calm maturity already. (He chose to ignore the fact that that was very much a H*llo Kitty wrist watch on his arm). He turned then to the other man, who's calm smile had still yet to leave his face, and offered up his hand for him as well. "And it's a pleasure to meet you as well Mister..."

"Russia," Russia replied, shaking his hand. "But you will be feeling more comfortable calling me Ivan Braginski, I am assuming?"

The President winced at the man's iron tight grip, shaking his hand to get feeling back into it when the handshake broke. "Ah, yes. If that is alright with you."

"Absolutely! It is fun to make new friends." At this point, the President started to feel a little uncomfortable at Russia's never faltering smile and felt grateful when it turned away to face America instead. "And how are you, comrade? It has been a while."

America grinned back in return; not his usual smile, but one that matched Russia's disturbingly well. "Never long enough, dude!" he laughed.

The President chocked, he didn't know this man very well, but that still seemed like a terrible thing to say to a guy like that.

Russia however, seemed undeterred and chuckled along with him. "So full of jokes as always! Ah!" he exclaimed suddenly, "I almost forgot, I have a present for you both." China groaned, excusing himself from the conversation and walking over to join England and his (still giggling) wife across the room.

While Russia dug around in his coat, America took this opportunity to make as many slitting-neck motions to the President as possible, freezing immediately as Russia "ah-ha!"ed and fixed him with a blinding grin. "Whatcha got there, big guy?" he asked.

"A present from my boss and I," he replied, pulling a jar from somewhere deep in his coat and handing it to the President, "To your boss and you!"

The President paled, finally getting an eyeful of the contents of the jar. "This is a _human hand_!"

"_Da_!" Russia clapped his own (thankfully attached) hands in excitement. "Boss said to give you a hand for the rest of your term, so that is what I have done!"

America snatched the jar and laughed. "You know, I would put this with the rest of the body parts you've given me, but the Russian nose you gave me for Christmas is taking up too much room."

Russia chuckled. "Ah, you must be mistaken, I believe that must be the American stomach I gave you two years ago for your birthday."

America pat him on the back and snort. "It's all good, I'll just throw it in the room with the Russian penis, there's more than enough room in there."

"Oh America, it is always good to talk to you!" The Russian man pat America on the back and then did the same to the President, apparently not noticing his flinch, for which he was extremely grateful. "And it was good to meet you as well! _D__o svidaniya!"_

As he walked away, the President immediately whacked America rather roughly in the arm. "What the hell was _that?_" he growled quietly.

America shrugged, tossing the jar into the nearest trashcan as they passed by. "Meh. He's a dick. C'mon! The old Axis dudes are right over here! We used to be enemies, but we're pretty tight now. Hey guys!"

Italy popped up, waving excitedly. The President waved back timidly. "Ah! _Ciao_ America, _S__ignor Presidente_!" The peppy little Italian called. He skipped over and grabbed both of their hands, dragging them over where a stoic blonde and a polite looking Asian man stood waiting. "Come! Meet my friends!"

Italy dragged the Americans over and gestured to them excitedly. America beamed.

"This is Germany and Japan!" Italy explained. "We've have been best friends since forever! Go on, say hello guys! America's boss is really snazzy, isn't he? And his wife likes pasta!"

German stuck his hand out. "_Guten tag_. I am Germany, or Ludwig Beilschmidt. I look forward to working with you... And I apologize for everything you've been through today. Sometimes I wonder about some of the other NPP reps..." He sent a weary glance at America and Italy who at this point both had their arms around a very uncomfortable looking Japan.

The President smiled. Oh, he liked this one. "Likewise, Mr. Beilschmidt. And thank you. I have to admit, it's nice to speak with someone so...sensible."

"Hey!" America exclaimed behind him. From across the room, England chuckled. "Shut up, you talk to imaginary fairies!"

"They're real, you twat!" The President and Germany rolled their eyes.

Germany turned to his left and gently pried Italy off Japan. "This is-"

"This is my homie, Japan!" America interrupted. "We're like, total BFFs. He comes over all the time to play video games with me! Go on, say hello, buddy!"

Japan seemed flustered, looking between the Americans worriedly. The President sighed and smiled in understanding. "Hello Mr. Japan," he said, bowing politely. Japan instantly relaxed and bowed in return.

"Konnichiwa. America-san has told me a lot about you. Please, call me Honda Kiku if that is more comfortable for you."

"I usually just call him Kiku though!" America interjected. Japan nodded, wiggling free from the bigger country's embrace, only to be immediately latched onto again, courtesy of Italy. Germany sighed heavily. "Well," America said happily, clapping his hands. "That's everyone, right?"

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room. America blinked.

"What? Who are we missing?"

All eyes turned to Germany, who for the first time since the President had met the man, actually looked a little rattled. "Ah..." he mumbled, "that would be..._mein Bruder..._"

* * *

><p><strong>FINALLY. My goodness, apparently it's difficult for me to write characters other than the FACE group, because this chapter was like pulling teeth for me. XD I hope the character interactions weren't too awkward! This is my first time actually writing a lot of these characters, so I apologize if I ruined anyone.<strong>

**There will probably be one more chapter of this fic, we'll meet Prussia and the kids and then flash forward a few months to see how life with the Prez and America is going. Those were going to be in this one, but it got too long and I got too tired of writing this without posting it so here we go! XD**

**One more thing, I got a couple of new thing since the last chapter! 1. a parakeet! His name is Alfred and he's adorable. XD and 2. A tumblr! the link is in my profile if you wanna check it out. It's really not very exciting, but I thought i would let you all know anyway. :) Have a good day!**  
><strong>-Car<strong>


	10. The Kids

The President shifted his weight from foot to foot in the uncomfortable silence that had fallen over the room. He wracked his brain to see if he could figure out who this apparent infamous brother of Germany's (Ludwig was Germany, right?) was, but found his knowledge on European geography fuzzy. Austria or Switzerland, perhaps? Maybe Denmark? Who hadn't he met yet?

He was forcibly pulled from his thoughts, however, by an irritable groan coming from Arthur's general direction. "You've got to be bloody kidding me, why on earth would you bring that tosser with you?" he snapped, rubbing his temples. Next to him, Francis didn't seem nearly as upset.

"_Cher __Prusse_ is here?" he chirped. "_M__agnifiques!_"

Lugwig sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't even know how he got here. He wasn't on the plane with us and yet when we arrived here this _morgen, _he was in the kitchen eating a sandwich."

The First Lady clapped her hands in recognition. "Ah, that pale gentleman with the chicken?" she asked. "Last time I saw him he was playing video games with the kids."

"Perfect!" Alfred exclaimed, "You can meet Prussia and I can meet your kids!"

The President frowned, not sure how he felt about this 'pale gentleman with the chicken' hanging out with his children, especially if Arthur and Ludwig, obviously the most sane of these people, thought tha-

"Wait did you just say Prussia?" the President asked in disbelief.

"Oh yeah," Alfred replied calmly, waving him off, "you can call him Gilbert though, if you wanna roll that way."

He frowned. "That's not what I'm worried about. Prussia stopped being a country decades ago, how can there still be a NPP representative of it?"

The countries exchanged incommunicative glances before Antonio finally decided to speak with a bright grin and a little shrug of his shoulders. "There are some things even _we_don't understand, _amigo._"

Germany cleared his throat. "For the most part, we just kind of assume he became East Germany."

"Like big brother and me being the North and South of _Italia_!" Italy explained, jumping next to said brother and throwing an obviously unappreciated arm around his shoulder.

"It saves headaches," Yao agreed. Kiku nodded.

Next to them, Ivan smiled sweetly. "I don't really care, to be honest."

The President sighed. "Makes as much sense as anything anymore, I guess."

"Great!" The First Lady skipped over to his side and made him take her arm in his. "Shall we go find him then? Arthur, why don't you come with us, dear?"

Arthur blinked, flushing lightly. "Ah, no, I couldn't, this is Presidential business and-"

She giggled. "Nonsense! I insist."

"If you do not wish to go with them, _mon __ami_, I would be more than happy to take your place," Francis cooed with a smirk.

"No on your life," Arthur snapped. "The farther we can keep you three away from each other the better. It's bad enough leaving you and Antonio together up here, even with everyone keeping an eye on you."

Alfred popped into the conversation, his index finger held up in declaration. "If anything Canada should come with us too. They have that weird pancake connection or whatever."

Arthur nodded. "Good point. Canada, would you mind-" He paused. "Canada?"

"Dude, where did he go?"

In the middle of the room, said Canadian smiled sadly. "I'm right here guys."

Alfred blinked and grinned. "Oh, sup bro! Where did you run off too?"

"I was here the whole ti- oh, just forget it," Matthew grumbled, "I'll go with you to get Prussia."

Once it was decided that Alfred, Matthew and Arthur (per the first lady's request) would accompany the presidential couple downstairs, Ludwig and Yao were left in control on the other nations (see: babysit) and the troop headed out. The First Lady had successfully latched herself to Arthur's arm, much to his embarrassment and everyone else's amusement, and was currently prattling on about a summer trip she took to London in high school. The President used this opportunity to finally allow himself to absorb his surroundings.

Holy shit, he was in the _White __House_.

He was _President._

Alfred, apparently in tune with his boss's emotions and feelings already, was quick to pat his shoulder comfortingly and provide him with a confident grin. "Relax, dude," he whispered, considerate not to let the others hear him. "I know this is like, a super lot to take in and shit, but I've kinda been doing this for a while so don't let yourself stress about it too much."

"Is my total and complete mortification that obvious?" the President asked with a smirk. Alfred beamed.

"There would be something wrong if it wasn't."

They fell into a comfortable silence, the only sound among them the giddy giggling of the First Lady until they finally reached the entertainment room. Matthew was promptly pushed forward by Alfred and Arthur, much to his displeasure, but sucked it up and poked his head through the door anyway.

"Prussia?" he inquired quietly. "Are you in here?"

His response, of course, was a string of angry German.

Matthew nodded. "He's in there."

Alfred nodded determinedly and pushed the door open, striding in confidently. "Yo, Prussia! Pause for a second and meet my boss!" One of the two visible heads on the couch turned to face them, one more popping up to it's right, shaggy hair and big eyes wide to take in the new arrivals.

"Dad?" the taller little head asked, revealing itself to her a young girl about ten years old. She sat up a little straighter to see over the back of the couch better and tucked her hair behind her ear. "You're back! Uh, who are these guys?"

The hair and eyes next to her widened suddenly, apparently just now taking in the strangers, and immediately ducked back behind the couch with a nervous little squeak.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows, turning her head to address her little brother. "It's okay, I'm sure they're just like Mr. Awesome."

Arthur scoffed at that one. "_Mr.__Awesome_? What lies are you telling these poor children?"

"Hey!" 'Mr. Awesome' snapped, his eyes never leaving the television. "They couldn't pronounce Beilschmidt so I made it easy on them." There was a sudden explosion on the screen. "_Scheiß!__"_

"Prussia, there are children present!" Matthew cried, and the President found himself thinking that was probably the loudest he had heard the Canadian's voice yet.

The game was paused just as the little boy's hair and eyes returned, albeit much closer to the little girl. The final head spun around at this point, relieving shiny white hair, almost unhealthily white skin, and bright, mischievous, red eyes. He grinned. "Hey there Maple leaf! Hanging out with Golden boy and Crumpet again?"

Matthew flushed. "Please don't call me that."

"And what the hell is this crumpet nonsense?"

"England!" Prussia exclaimed in mock horror, "The children!"

"Oh, piss off!"

The President took in this visitor, turning to his wife and whispering harshly. "I thought you said he was _pale_."

She rose an eyebrow curiously. "He _is._"

"He's a little more than pale, honey. He's _albino_!" His wife shrugged and he rolled his eyes, turning to Alfred to ask him about this peculiar turn of events when he was met with nothing but air. Apparently the reason Alfred had been so quiet the last few minutes was because he had made his way across the room and was kneeling over the arm rest of the couch, talking to his kids.

"Hey you guys!" he was saying. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Alfred F. Jones. I'm gonna be working with your daddy."

His daughter regarded him tentatively, a protective arm around her brother. "Are you like Mr. Awesome?" she asked.

Alfred beamed. "Kinda! What has Gilbert told you about people like us?"

His son poked his head out of his sister's armpit to answer the question. "He said you guys are countries."

"Right, dude!" He held out his hand for a high-five, which his son happily indulged him in. "Did he tell you what country he was?"

"He said was he was Awesometopia or something stupid like that." his daughter replied, crossing her arms hauntingly. "But I don't think it's a real country."

"Hey!" Prussia exclaimed, breaking away form his bickering with Arthur and Matthew to defend himself.

America simply laughed. "It's not. He's East Germany these days...I think. Oh and just between you and me, I'm totally more awesome than he is." The kids turned their attention back to Gilbert briefly, who stuck his tongue out at them, making them giggle and turn back to Alfred with wide, curious eyes. "You guys wanna know what country I am?" he asked.

They nodded their heads and Alfred smirked.

"I dunno, it's kinda big, top secret, important information..."

"Tell us Mr. Alfred!" the President's son exclaimed.

His daughter rolled her eyes (a habit she had picked up lately, the President reminded himself glumly), but smiled nonetheless. "Are you the United States, by any chance?"

"Bingo!" He gave her a big thumbs up to match his megawatt grin. "That kinda makes your dad my boss now that he's the president, you see, so I'm gonna be hanging around here a bunch. Think we'll be able to become friends?"

The kids nodded again, introducing themselves and asking Alfred a series of pointless questions, from what his favorite color was to each and every pet he had ever owned. The President smiled warmly. Alfred obviously had a way with kids. He was glad they were able to accept his true identity easier than he did.

Matthew, Arthur, and his wife were all smiling warmly at the scene as well, Matthew mumbling something about his brother being a big kid himself as Arthur agreed that even if he was a prat, Alfred could be quite sweet when he wanted to be.

"So you're the new Prez, huh?"

The President jumped. Prussia was standing in front of him, arms crossed and smirking. "Uh, yes," he mumbled intelligently.

"Well lucky you! You get the honor of knowing the greatest country this world has ever seen, your awesomeness, Prussia!" At the President's blank stare he sighed. "Or Gilbert Beilschmidt, whatever. All that matters is that you know I'm the best."

"Uh..."

Prussia turned to his wife, who was smiling brightly. "Hey there, sweet cheeks."

The President gasped. "Now you wait just a-"

"Hello Gilbert! Where is your little chicken?" she giggled.

The President sighed. He wondered about his wife sometimes.

"Gilbird? He's off somewhere. He's a sneaky little _charmant _sometimes." Just as the President began scanning the room for this apparent runaway chicken (because that was exactly what this day needed), a tiny peep coming from Gilbert's front pocket caught his attention. "Ah! There's my little _Liebling_!"

The President stared at the little baby chick as Gilbert coaxed it out of his pocket and all but shoved it into the President's face. "It's...cute," he offered weakly.

"Gilbird is so cute he's the destroyer of worlds!" the Prussian shot back, shoving the chick so close to his face he was starting to feel the tickle of little downy feather's on his nose. His eyes met the little fluff ball's and it peeped happily in agreement.

"Oh, get that thing out of his face, you git," Arthur snapped. "God knows where it's been."

A booming laugh alerted the group Alfred had decided to join back in the conversation, the President's daughter's arms wrapped around his neck in a piggy-back ride and his son sitting comfortably in his arms. "The kids wanted to meet the rest of us awesome nation-guys!" He walked over to Arthur and Matthew and smiled happily. "Here we go, say hi! This here is England, and the transparent one is my twin, Canada! But you can call them Artie and Mattie."

The two nations glared at him, Arthur grumbling a "no they may _not_" but waved to the kids anyway.

The two kids looked back the the nations with wide eyes. "What's on your face, Mister?" the little boy asked, pointing at Arthur. Said nation turned bright red, but was thankfully calmed before he could yell at anyone by Matthew's comforting hand on his shoulder.

Gilbert laughed loudly. "His eyebrows! Aren't they gnarly? Totally _lustig_!"

"Are there any _girl_ countries?" the President's daughter asked, looking up at Alfred with more than a little irritation. "All the countries that I've seen today are boys."

"Oh, there are plenty of girl nations," Matthew replied quietly. "There's Ukraine," he pointedly ignored Alfred and Gilbert's lewd smirks they sent to each other, "Taiwan, Lichtenstein, Monaco, Hungary-"

"That last one is debatable." Gilbert interrupted with a laugh.

Arthur rolled his eyes. "Just because _you_ aren't tough enough to beat her doesn't make her less of a woman. Hungary is a delightful young lady."

"Delightfully terrifying."

Alfred jumped back into the conversation, letting the kids back down to the ground softly and patting their heads. "How about when they come over, I'll introduce you guys?"

The kids nodded excitedly in agreement, and the First Lady to giggled happily. "My Alfred, you certainly have a lot of interesting friends, don't you?"

"Oh, you don't know the half of it." Arthur grumbled, rolling his eyes. Alfred gasped.

"Oh yeah!" he exclaimed. "You still need to meet Tony!"

As the entire group, the kids and Gilbert included, were forcibly pushed from the room, Arthur's voice could be made out just faintly under the commotion, cursing himself and his big, bloody mouth.

* * *

><p><strong>And there we are! I swear, these characters keep running away from me and doing whatever they want! This was going to be the last chapter but everyone kept fooling around and we haven't met Tony yet, so I guess there is gonna be 1-2 more chapters! :P Hope you enjoyed it though! America with kids is adorable to me, so I was excited to plug that in here!<strong>

**Thank all of you from here who followed me on tumblr! I'm loving getting the chance to talk to you guys! *hugs all around* :D**

**-Car**


	11. The End

The President stared, wide-eyed and confused, at the extremely large- oh, he couldn't even believe he was saying this out loud- _UFO_ in his backyard. He took a quick glance at the rest of his companions to see if they were in as much disbelief as he was.

With the exception of Arthur, the other nations seemed indifferent, while the British nation just looked even more irritated and grumpy than usual. His kids looked to be star-struck, mouth's hanging open at the prospect of getting to see a real-life flying saucer, and his wife...well...

"Alfred! Alfred, Is this the Roswell ship? Oh my gosh, it's the Roswell ship! I would recognize those scratch marks anywhere! Those are from the crash, right? Oh my gosh, Mr. Kirkland, are you seeing this?" The President rolled his eyes. His wife had always been a bit of a conspiracy theory nut.

"Yes, I see it," Arthur grumbled. "Now let's go. The last thing I want to deal with right now is the bloody alien."

There was a small gasp and the President turned to look at his son who was practically radiating excitement. "There's an alien in there? A real one?" he asked.

"Of course not," his daughter huffed, crossing her arms. After a few moments, she bit her lip and glanced up at Alfred. "Right?"

Alfred was glowing. "You bet there is! And you were right, Mrs. President, it _is_ the Roswell ship. Usually it's got this cloaking mechanism detonated, but Tony always takes it off after I get a new boss so the President can see it. Pretty sweet, huh?"

Matthew smiled comfortingly at his now nervous looking daughter. "Don't worry, Tony's harmless."

"To _you_, perhaps," Arthur grumbled. "The thing is a menace!"

Gilbert laughed. "Tony has a strict 'no not-awesome' policy."

"Don't use double negatives," Arthur grumbled. "And the only reason that little twit hates me is because-"

"You're Golden Boy's little boy toy and he's tired of you always stealin' him?"

Arthur sputtered, blushing deep, florescent red. "W-why you little!"

Alfred laughed, apparently not concerned that Arthur was currently chasing Gilbert around the yard, wielding what looked to be a magic wand (he wasn't going to ask), and turned to the ship once again. "Hey Tony! Open up, bro!" he exclaimed, knocking at the side.

A couple of crashes and clanks echoed from inside the ship before a kind of whooshing sound accompanied the release of the door. The humans all held their breath as a figure started to emerge from the steam, and even Arthur and Gilbert (who was now sporting a rather large knot on his forehead) stopped their roughhousing and joined them at the base of the ship's ramp.

His kids held their breath as the alien came fully into view, obviously shocked enough to be a witnessing a real live alien that the size of the thing did seem to disappoint them at all.

"I thought they were supposed to...bigger," his wife whispered in his ear. "Like, taller. Or like, the ones from _Independence Day. _All freaky looking." The President shrugged, he'd never seen an alien either, how was he supposed to know?

Now that it was standing next to Alfred, the President could see the alien was just short of his shoulders, and had a limbs even thinner than his young daughter's. His head was large and bulbous, and at first glance, he couldn't quite make out a nose and mouth. Alfred grinned, throwing his arm around the creature's shoulders and gesturing to the presidential family excitedly.

"This is my new boss and his family, Tony!" he exclaimed. "Go on, say hi!"

The alien, Tony apparently, stared up at him. After a few seconds and a little push from Alfred, he extended his arm in what was apparently a handshake.

'"Fuck you."

Well, it obviously had a mouth.

Behind him, his wife gasped, and he could just imagine her throwing her hands over the children's ears. Arthur and Matthew could be heard respectively slapping their heads and groaning, while Gilbert just laughed. Alfred seemed unfazed however, grinning and patting Tony on the shoulder proudly. The President tentatively shook the alien's hand.

"Isn't he something? Tony and I are total BFF's! Truman saw how well we got along after he crashed in Roswell, so he let him live here and we've been tight even since!"

"Fucking bitch."

Alfred laughed. "I know, right? We've had so many crazy, fun adventures!" He smiled at the President, waiting for praise and acknowledgment, his smile faulting as the family returned only confused and slightly horrified looks. "Hm? What's wrong?

"What's wrong?" Arthur exclaimed. "What's wrong is you exposing that little abomination to your boss and his family! For God's sake, America, there are children present!"

Tony turned to Arthur and promptly flipped him off. "Eat shit you fucking limey."

"See!"

America raised an eyebrow and looked back down to Tony. The alien simply shrugged. "Dude, what are you talking about? Kids love Tony."

As Arthur continued to shout at Alfred, Matthew turned back to the family and laughed quietly. "America doesn't exactly...notice the swearing," he explained. "For the most part, we think he actually hears real words but no one quite understands what goes on his his head, so it's all speculation really. Please don't be offended, the only one Tony truly hates is England...for whatever reason."

"_Boy toy~_!" Gilbert sang, cackling and going over to greet Tony with a high-five. Arthur flushed, stomping after Gilbert while Matthew simply hung back and shook his head.

After proper introductions, the group left Tony to his devices, promising to read his chapter in The Book and return to visit him later. He seemed to take a liking to his son and wife, and the President figured that once he got used to the swearing (_if _he ever got used to the swearing) he could see Tony potentially not being completely terrible.

It was a suggestion from Matthew to make sure the rest of the nations hadn't torn the place apart, and a complaint of hunger from Alfred that prompted them to return to the White House where everyone was asked to join them in the dining room for a bit of dinner. A few nations declined, either because of other plans for blunt refusal of eating anything prepared in America, but the few that remained provided some excellent dinner conversation involving some of Alfred's most embarrassing moments.

Usually he wasn't one to take pleasure in other people's misfortune, but after the day he had, the President welcomed it with Schadenfreuden glee.

"One more time, Arthur," he said, sipping from a glass of (well deserved, thank you very much) whiskey, "when was it Alfred stopped wetting the bed, again?"

"Oh, well past his twelfth birthday if we are going by human years," he replied with a chuckle. "By that time he started trying to wash his own sheets of course, but the boy could never do it right. Each one of them had a dull yellow stain of them by the end of spring."

America, flushing up to the tip of his hair, cleared his throat loudly, attempting to combat the laughter. "Okay, this is totally not proper dinnertime conversation!" he exclaimed. He turned to Arthur with a pout. "And how would you know that, anyway?" he snapped. "You were never around when I was growing up!"

"Oh, there, there, poppet," Arthur cooed, patting him on the head condescendingly. Alfred's cheeked puffed up even larger in annoyance. "I'm sure it was just a genetic thing. How about you, Canada? Any problems in that area?"

Matthew swallowed the bite of roll he was chewing and shook his head. "Not one."

Francis beamed. "My little Canada was always such a _bon garçon!_" He took a sip of wine. "Perhaps it was young _Amérique's_ upbringing?"

"Belt it, frog."

The group continued sitting at the table and talking throughout dinner and even after dessert, telling stories of being nations, historically significant and simply mildly entertaining alike, while the president and First Family told about themselves. They were only made aware of the time when the President's son yawned tiredly, and the children were whisked off to bed.

The rest of the group followed suit, excusing themselves and wishing the President and his family goodnight. America, despite everyone's insistence on the contrary, offered to take the nations to their hotels, apparently wanting one more joy-ride in the armored car. The President bid the nations farewell and good luck, reminding Alfred to be quiet when he got home because he was going to bed dammit, and he was going to wake up there in the morning.

The First Lady smiled at him as the front door closed and the nations could be heard wrecking havoc outside. "Are you coming to bed, sweetie? You look exhausted."

The President kissed his wife on the cheek and shook his head. "I'm going to look through that book a little before I turn in." He sighed, "Just some stuff I need cleared up before I'll be able to sleep."

"Just not too long, okay?" she asked, ruffling his hair and giving him a light smack on the bottom. "I love you!"

The President laughed. "Love you too."

O

The President flipped back and forth between Alfred and Tony's chapters, reading the words that were not quite making it up to his brain. Most of what was in the book were things he already knew just by being around the NPP members today and common knowledge. The Roswell page did have some interesting stuff about extraterrestrials, but even that stuff became rather dull after living through this stuff first-hand.

He was just about to close up the book for the night and join his wife in bed when there was a knocking at the door.

"Doing some late night studying there, Mr. President?" the Vice President asked, leaning far too casually on the door frame. The President smirked and gestured for him to come in.

"Oh, just brushing up on some things I should have known yesterday," he laughed. The Vice president sat in the green leather chair across from him and crossed his arms across his chest, apparently waiting for the scolding. Well, he was never one to disappoint. "You know, you could have warned me," he chided playfully.

"Where would be the fun in that?" the Vice President asked. "America only gets to do this every four or eight years, don't want to spoil that for him."

The President sighed. "Has he changed?" he paused, as if to consider his words more carefully. "I mean, since your father was in office?"

The Vice President thought about this for a moment. "Not very much, actually," he finally answered. "He's pretty much exactly how I remember him; the blond hair, the blue eyes, and bright smile, the way he could drive the president up a wall."

The President chuckled. "Oh good, I'm not the only one, then."

The Vice President smiled, closing his eyes as if to remember something from a very long time ago. "America wont always be around as much as he was today. He usually stays in his penthouse in New York City, or this old mansion in Virginia England helped him build when he was a colony. At least, he did when I was a kid. Sure, he has a room here, but he only usually stays there for business. He also spends a lot of time traveling around to the different states or to different countries for business."

The President found himself leaning forward in his chair before he realized it. This was the stuff he wanted to know, information that the book didn't provide. The kind of things that would only be known by someone who knew the nation first hand.

The personal things.

"He's terrified of horror movies, so if he ever tells you he's going to watch one, make sure he has a friend over. England, Canada, and Japan usually work well for that, they are the closest friends he has. Expect to eat a lot of M*Donalds when he's around, and stay stocked up on ice cream. Also, he forgets his own strength a lot, so don't be surprised if he accidentally breaks something. He'll be horrified of course, but it's bound to happen again, so I would just brush it off."

The President nodded. "Good things to know."

"To be honest," the Vice president mused, "I think the best thing about the NPs is that every country has one, so they are a great conversation starter. Literally every other world leader has to deal with their nation's antics, my dad used to say what better way to start up a conversation than 'well, Alfred blew up the Washington Monument again'?"

"_What?_" the President laughed. The Vice President smirked.

"What? You don't think the Queen has ever had to deal with England getting drunk and streaking through London? Trust me, it happens. I think the president of France even had to bail France out of jail a few years ago. Something about a drag queen and a beret... Or maybe it was a mime. They kept the details to a minimum."

The President shook his head, chuckling to himself and suddenly realizing how tired he actually was. "I notice you call him America rather than Alfred. Any reason?"

The Vice President shrugged. "After a while, it doesn't seem so strange anymore."

The President smiled, somehow comforted by this. "What would I do without you?" he asked with a yawn. The Vice President winked.

"Have to figure this all out on your own like the rest of us."

They bid each other goodnight and the President placed The Book safely on the square, glass table next to his chair so he could finish looking through it the next day. He figured he should also probably return it to the Library of Congress as soon as possible. They were probably not too happy about Alfred stealing it.

Once he had checked to make sure his kids were sleeping soundly, he tiptoed his way through the halls, freezing as a door was heard opening and closing somewhere in the house. A thump and a curse quickly followed, but the President heeded it no mind. It was just Alfred. He had made it back safely.

Another thump and curse sounded somewhere near the stairs this time and the President sighed. "Alfred, turn on a light!" he called, and after a few moments, a light flickered on somewhere downstairs.

"Heh, thanks! Sorry boss! Goodnight!"

He chuckled to himself as he slipped into his room and crawled into his bed. As his eyes slid shut, he couldn't help the small grin that escaped onto his lips. "Preserve, protect and defend indeed," he mumbled, finally drifting off to sleep.

It was going to be an interesting four to eight years.

* * *

><p><strong>The end! Not the most exciting ending in the world, but I don't think there was anywhere to go once the President met everyone without dragging it on, so here we are! I thought about doing an epilogue, but then I realized that pretty much every fic I've done with the President is like an epilogue. XD<strong>

**Thank you all for sticking with me through this fic, I've had so much fun getting to develop Mr. President and his family, and I hope you enjoyed them as well! **

**The next fic on my list is my first AU! XD it's gonna be a USUK that follows the boys on their college track team. I know it sounds kinda wonky, but I think it'll be fun! Anyway, once again, I hope you enjoyed! :) have a great day!  
>-Car <strong>


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